Arthur Goes Fourth II: The Second Time Around
by Dead Composer
Summary: The sequel to Arthur Goes Fourth. Brain meets his son from the future, and hears some startling news. Warning: Major character death!
1. Intro and Background

Disclaimer: The Arthur characters are used without the permission of Marc Brown, who owns them. So sue me. Nyaah nyaah.  
  
This story is rated PG. I'm planning on a little mild slash later on, but nothing too serious. Also, in the spirit of Harry Potter 5, a major character will DIE in this story. It's a character you all know and love, who was in the picture books and has been on the show since the beginning, and it's NOT one of Arthur's grandparents. The death will truly surprise and shock you. However, if enough reviewers ask for me to bring the character back to life, I will consider doing so. After all, there's an element of time travel in this story.  
  
----  
  
First, a little background. This story, "Arthur Goes Fourth II", is a sequel to the series "Arthur Goes Fourth", which chronicles the first eight weeks of fourth grade for Arthur and his friends. I will now list the characters, both those created by Marc Brown and some original characters who I added, and describe their current situation so that you won't be lost when you start reading. If you'd rather plunge right into the story, then proceed to the next chapter.  
  
Arthur. Not much has changed as far as our favorite aardvark boy is concerned, except he has a suspicion that Sue Ellen is in love with him.  
  
D.W. She managed to sneak a peek into Sue Ellen's diary, which is how Arthur obtained his suspicion.  
  
Nadine. No longer D.W.'s imaginary friend, she is now a real little girl. This merits explaining. In AGF Episode 4, a little girl with the same name and appearance as D.W.'s nonexistent friend came into D.W.'s kindergarten class. At first D.W. was alarmed, but the two soon became friends. Nadine helped D.W. and Prunella defeat Pickles, an evil extradimensional Pomeranian, obtaining a time-traveling tricycle in the process.  
  
Beatrice "Beat" Simon. This new girl in Arthur's class is half rabbit and half aardvark, and is as smart as Alan (Brain), if not smarter. Having grown up in London, she and her family recently emigrated to Elwood City so that her father could take a university position that Sue Ellen's father helped him to obtain. She is also good at soccer ("football"), so good, in fact, that Francine is taking lessons from her. Beat's father, angry over the refusal of Crosswire Motors to refund a defective car that he purchased, has initiated a lawsuit against Ed Crosswire's automotive empire. This led to some animosity between Beat and Muffy, but the two have become friends again.  
  
Van Cooper. The new boy in Arthur's class, he is wheelchair-bound since being hit by a car two years ago. He is quite friendly and plays the violin well, but is still struggling to cope with his handicap. He comes from a large family of ducks, except for his sister Odette (to be described later), who is a swan. Van's younger brother Dallin is in D.W.'s kindergarten class, while his father, Mel Cooper, is the lawyer who Beat's father has employed for the Crosswire lawsuit. Mel's ruthless nature has made him an enemy in Ed Crosswire, who has forbidden his daughter Muffy from associating with her friend Van.  
  
Odette Cooper. Van's twelve-year-old sister, she is not a duck like him, but a swan (nobody really knows how that came about). A graceful dancer, she was once in the same ballet class as Binky, who is hopelessly infatuated with her.  
  
Muffy. Under the influence of Van's friendship, Muffy has realized that money and fashion aren't the most important things in the world. This change in her personality has alarmed her parents, who have decided to enroll her at Uppity Downs Academy, Elwood City's most prestigious private school. Her father has forbidden her from seeing Van, but can even the mighty Ed Crosswire keep them apart?  
  
Buster. The marriage of Bitzi Baxter to Harry Mills took place near the end of the AGF series. The prospect of moving with his new dad to Chicago, plus Harry's attempts to discourage his belief in aliens, has led him to an existential crisis of sorts.  
  
Jean Stiles. She was the fourth grade teacher for Arthur and his friends, but only lasted a few weeks before her problem with prescription drug addiction was revealed, and she checked into a rehab clinic. Four weeks later she was released, but has become somewhat of a persona non grata in the community ever since Bitzi published a newspaper article describing her scandalous past as an ultimately unsuccessful Hollywood starlet. Now Fern, for whom she served as a poetry coach, is her only remaining faithful friend. Species: polar bear.  
  
Bud Wald. He replaced Jean Stiles as the teacher of Arthur's fourth grade class, and his charm, humor, and imitations have made him an instant hit. Species: horse.  
  
Alan (Brain). Alan didn't take well the fact that there was now a girl in the class who was as smart as he was. Making it worse was the fact that Alan's friends were now going to Beat for help with their homework. He eventually overcame his jealousy, however, and now he and Beat are friends. Alan came into possession of the time tricycle that Nadine acquired from the dimension of evil known as Spiritus Mundi, and used it to travel nine years into the future. There he learned the eventual fates of his friends--including the startling revelation that Sue Ellen would die of AIDS as a result of a hospital stay in Africa. When Alan returned to his own time, he refused to tell his friends what he had seen in the future.  
  
Sue Ellen. At Mr. Ratburn's urging, Sue Ellen's parents left her in Elwood City in the care of Carla, her old sitter, before traveling to Indonesia on a diplomatic mission. Sue Ellen's anger over being left behind by her parents led to some problematic behavior, but since then she has adjusted, possibly due to the supposed fact that she is in love with Arthur.  
  
Binky. As a result of spending much of the summer in juvenile detention, Binky decided to clean up his act. He started to read more books and perform more good deeds, particularly for his friend Van. He developed a crush on Van's older sister Odette, with whom he had practiced ballet, but was too nervous to act on his crush, despite some hypnotic assistance from Prunella.  
  
Fern. Having taken up acting, Fern played the title role in Peter Pan over the summer. Her poetry skills attracted the attention of Mrs. Stiles, who began to coach her. When Stiles went into rehab, Fern was determined to contact her, but Rodentia Ratburn counseled her against doing so. Stiles was released four weeks later, but a newspaper article written by Bitzi Baxter had tarnished her reputation. At Bitzi's wedding to Harry, Fern and Bitzi had a heated argument over Stiles' moral character, which led to Fern losing her temper and shoving Bitzi in an undignified scene. Fern's mother grounded her for two weeks and denied her the privilege of acting in the local production of The Sound of Music.  
  
Mr. Ratburn. A nearly disastrous matchmaking attempt engineered by Francine led to Nigel Ratburn making the acquaintance of Sue Ellen's nanny, Carla Fuente. The two have since made an excursion to Carla's home country, Costa Rica, and become engaged to be married.  
  
So, without further ado, on with the story... 


	2. The Boy from the Future

The date: December 24, 2033.  
  
Jason stood quietly in the kitchen and watched the images unfold on the 100-inch holographic projection TV in the living room. His father, mother, and older sister Lori sat on the couch in front of the screen, getting a closer view of the action.  
  
They gazed in horror and despair at the sight. On the TV screen, a gigantic mushroom cloud was climbing higher and higher into the sky, spreading its branches widely in every direction. This was not like one of those old-style nuclear tests which had long since been replaced by computer simulations. This eruption of deadly radiation would spread for hundreds, maybe thousands, of miles, poisoning the atmosphere and killing indiscriminately. It was a holocaust of unprecedented scale from which the world might never recover.  
  
"I wonder how much they paid The Wraith to betray us," said Jason's father, a dark-complexioned bear man, with thinly veiled hatred.  
  
"What could possibly be worth the deaths of millions of people?" his mother asked rhetorically.  
  
Jason took his eyes from the screen and glanced around the living room. A well-lighted Christmas tree sat in one corner, and Kwanzaa decorations dangled from the ceiling. It was becoming clear to him that he would not survive to see Christmas morning, and neither would countless other children. Unless...  
  
Lori turned to her parents, her eyes brimming with tears. "Mom...dad...I may never get another chance to say this. I just want to tell you how much I love you."  
  
"We love you too, dear," said her mother, a dark-haired aardvark woman.  
  
Jason knew exactly what he had to do. He lifted his backpack from off the kitchen table and strapped it over his shoulders.  
  
As he opened the door to the garage, his father turned his head, hearing the noise. "Jason?" he called.  
  
Jason walked past the light blue hovercar, which rested on its shining steel supports. The item he sought was buried behind a large pile of useless scientific equipment. He dragged away one piece of junk, then another, then another...  
  
...and there it was.  
  
He quickly sat down on it and placed his feet on the pedals.  
  
"Jason, no!" exclaimed his father, standing in the doorway.  
  
But it was too late to stop his son...  
  
----  
  
The final bell rang, and the students in Bud Wald's fourth-grade class stood, grasped their packs, and started to file out of the room. All except for Alan, formerly known as The Brain, who anxiously awaited a certain item of news from his teacher.  
  
"Good luck, Alan," Muffy said to him as she walked by. "I'm sure you'll make it."  
  
"We'll miss you," said Arthur, smiling.  
  
As Sue Ellen walked past him, shooting him a friendly smile, he felt a knot in his stomach. The knot had come back every time he saw the girl, ever since he had returned from his incredible voyage to the future. Would he ever tell her? Did he dare?  
  
Francine and Fern chatted as they headed for the door. "Sugar Bowl, Fern?" Francine asked.  
  
"Sorry, I can't," said Fern. "I'm grounded."  
  
"Oh, yeah," said Francine as she held the door open. "I feel your pain."  
  
"I have nobody to blame but myself," said Fern sadly.  
  
Soon all the children had exited except for Alan. The boy walked up to Bud's desk, a look of nervous anticipation on his face.  
  
Mr. Wald wasted no time in getting to the point. Picking up a sheet of paper from the top of his desk, he said, "Congratulations, Alan. You passed."  
  
A relieved smile spread across Alan's face. "I passed," he repeated, gazing dreamily into space.  
  
"Of course you passed," said the horse-faced teacher, rising to his feet. "I never doubted for a second that you would. A smart boy like you..."  
  
"So I'm a fifth-grader now," said Alan, his voice growing more serious. "Funny, I don't feel any different."  
  
Bud put a hand on Alan's shoulder. "You're not a fifth-grader yet. We need to see Mr. Haney and fill out some paperwork. Maybe you'll feel different after that."  
  
Alan smiled again.  
  
About fifteen minutes later, Alan strolled down the sidewalk toward his house, a confident glow on his face. Half a block ahead of him, several of his classmates stood chatting excitedly, including Arthur, Buster, Francine, and Beat Simon.  
  
When they saw him coming, they hailed him. "Hey, look!" cried Francine. "Here comes Lakewood Elementary's newest fifth-grader!"  
  
"How 'bout it, Alan?" Buster asked. "Did you pass?"  
  
"Yup," said Alan as he drew near to the group.  
  
The kids cheered and pumped their fists.  
  
"I knew you could do it!" exclaimed Arthur.  
  
"Now we'll have to call you The Brain again," said Beat in her intelligent- sounding British accent. "All the better. I was growing weary of the title."  
  
"We're on our way to the Sugar Bowl," Francine said to Alan.  
  
"And we're taking our sweet time," said Buster. "Get it? Sugar Bowl? Sweet time? Hahaha!"  
  
Alan chuckled politely at Buster's awful joke.  
  
"Come with us and we'll celebrate your advancement," Arthur suggested.  
  
"I'd be glad to," said Alan. "But first, I'd like a word with Beat...in private."  
  
Beat looked a bit perplexed.  
  
"Okay, we'll see you there," said Francine, turning on her heel.  
  
As she, Arthur, and Buster meandered down the sidewalk, Beat smiled at Alan, and her rabbit ears sprang up with joy. "I'm so happy for you, Alan."  
  
Alan gave her a stern look. "The test wasn't that hard," he told her. "I don't understand why you were afraid to take it."  
  
"I wasn't afraid," said Beat.  
  
Brain became somewhat flustered. "Then...why? Why wouldn't you take it?"  
  
"I've told you before," Beat answered firmly. "My reasons are my own. They don't concern you."  
  
"You could've easily passed," Alan insisted.  
  
Beat didn't respond, but only stared blankly at Alan.  
  
"Fine," said Alan with a hint of resignation in his voice. "I won't bother you about it anymore. It's your own business. I understand."  
  
Beat smiled again. "Come on, Alan. Our friends are waiting."  
  
Alan followed closely behind Beat as she walked in the direction of the Sugar Bowl. "Beat?" he said.  
  
Beat turned her head. "Yes?"  
  
"It won't be fifth grade without you."  
  
Beat giggled.  
  
At that moment Alan saw something out of the corner of his eye...as if an object were streaking from the sky in their direction. By the time he turned his face to look, it had already passed overhead with a whooshing sound... followed by a loud crash. He and Beat whirled, amazed at the strange sight and sound. Half a block away, Arthur, Francine, and Buster also stopped and turned.  
  
What they saw was a boy, about their age, sprawled on his back in front of a fence on the other side of the street. A few yards from him lay what appeared to be an overturned child's plastic tricycle.  
  
"My heavens, he's hurt!" Beat cried out. She and Alan rushed across the street without checking first for oncoming traffic.  
  
They stood on either side of the prostrate boy and examined him. A small stream of blood trickled down his face where it had collided with the white picket fence. He appeared to be dazed, or fully unconscious. His face and ears were dark and bear-like, similar to Alan's, but his nose was distended with the nostrils near the bottom, like an aardvark's.  
  
"Well, he's alive," Beat remarked.  
  
They heard a door open, and turned to face the small, light green house sitting behind the fence. A blond elephant woman stepped out, looked at the wounded boy calmly, and went back into the house. Seconds later she re-emerged, holding a medical kit.  
  
"Let me look at him," she said to Alan and Beat. "I'm an EMT."  
  
The woman came through the gate, sank to her knees in front of the mysterious boy, opened her kit, and pulled out some gauze.  
  
As she worked, Alan turned and walked toward the plastic object that lay on the street and had apparently arrived with the boy. Something seemed oddly familiar about it, but he had to be sure...  
  
He picked up the object, turned it over, and gasped with surprise when he saw a sophisticated control panel attached to the handlebars.  
  
It was the time tricycle that Nadine had brought back from Spiritus Mundi!  
  
(To be continued...) 


	3. The Boy from the Future, Continued

There was no mistake--Alan was looking at a time tricycle, exactly the same in shape and model as the one he had obtained from Nadine. It occurred to him that it might, in fact, be the very same tricycle. The paint on this one was faded, scratched, and chipped, compared to the brand-new appearance of the one that he had hidden in his garage...but how could he be sure, with a device that was capable of time travel?  
  
Beat walked up alongside him. "What is it, Alan?" she asked.  
  
"Uh...it's just one of those new high-tech tricycles," Alan replied.  
  
"New?" said Beat with surprise. "But it looks very old. And I could have sworn I saw it flying."  
  
"I didn't see it flying," Alan lied.  
  
"Oh." Beat started to walk toward the fallen boy again. "Well, maybe my imagination is running wild, then."  
  
The blond elephant woman had finished dressing the gash on the boy's forehead as Alan and Beat once again stood over him to examine him. "He'll be all right," she said, "but he should see a doctor."  
  
"I'll make sure he does," said Alan.  
  
The woman picked up her medical kit and made her way back into her house. Beat, meanwhile, became intrigued by the strange boy's face.  
  
"He looks a lot like you," she said to Alan.  
  
"But he has your nose," Alan responded.  
  
"No, I don't think so," said Beat, shaking her head. "His nose doesn't look like mine at all." She bent down to take a closer look at the boy's backpack, which was still strapped to his shoulders.  
  
"I wouldn't know," said Alan. "Aardvark noses all look the same to me."  
  
Beat didn't hear what he said, as she was fascinated with the fabric from which the backpack was crafted.  
  
Suddenly the boy's eyes popped open, and he sat up, looking panicked. Beat quickly straightened herself. The boy glanced around, confused by his surroundings. Then he placed a hand over the bandage on his forehead, and groaned. "Oooohhh..."  
  
As Alan and Beat watched with interest, the boy pulled his backpack off of his shoulders and placed it on his lap. The pack had no apparent compartments or zippers, but seemed a featureless, oval-shaped, light brown mass. The boy pulled on the top of the pack and an opening appeared, almost as if by magic. Reaching inside, he briefly pulled out something that looked to Alan like a small vial of fluid, then replaced it. He pushed down on the top of the pack and the opening disappeared, replaced by continuous, seamless fabric.  
  
"How very peculiar," Beat remarked as she watched the boy strap on his pack. "A fabric that mends itself."  
  
Upon hearing Beat's voice, the boy looked up at her, his eyes wide with alarm. After a few seconds he calmed down, then began to speak.  
  
"My head hurts."  
  
Beat held out a hand to the boy. He grasped it hesitantly, and she gently pulled him to his feet. "Thank you," he said weakly.  
  
"I'll take him to my house and call a doctor," said Alan.  
  
"No need." Beat reached into her blouse pocket and pulled out a cell phone. "I can call one from right here."  
  
Alan gaped with surprise. "You have a cell phone?"  
  
"Yes," said Beat, flipping it open. "One must keep up with the Joneses, you know. Or, in this case, the Crosswires."  
  
Alan lifted his hand to stop her. "That won't be necessary, Beat. I'll take care of this."  
  
"Are you certain?" asked Beat with a concerned look.  
  
"I'm positive," said Alan. "Now go to the Sugar Bowl and have a good time. I'll catch up with you later."  
  
Beat eyed him quizzically.  
  
"GO!" cried Alan.  
  
Beat turned and walked away from Alan, her expression one of confusion.  
  
The boy watched her go curiously. "She's a half-and-half," he observed. "Like me."  
  
Alan lifted the tricycle with one hand and rested it against his hip. "Follow me," he said to the boy. "You can walk, right?"  
  
"Of course I can walk," said the boy incredulously.  
  
Alan walked in the direction of his house, carrying the tricycle, while the boy followed, constantly glancing in all directions as if he had entered a fantastic new world.  
  
A few minutes later the pair arrived at the front door of Alan's house. Alan opened the door, and he and the strange boy entered.  
  
"Mom," called Alan, "I brought a friend over."  
  
"Okay, Alan," came Mrs. Powers' voice from the laundry room.  
  
Alan led the boy into his bedroom, where he laid down the tricycle and closed the door. He turned and faced the boy, a stern look on his face.  
  
"Who are you?" he demanded. "Where are you from?"  
  
"Before I answer any questions," said the boy, "do you mind if I lie down? My head really hurts."  
  
Alan gestured toward his bed. The boy stepped toward it, laid a hand on the mattress as if to gauge its softness, and then slowly laid himself down.  
  
Alan stood over him. "I'm waiting."  
  
The boy fluffed up his pillow, laid down his head, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. "My name is Jason."  
  
"Jason," Alan repeated to himself. "Where are you from? Or should I ask, when are you from?"  
  
The boy didn't answer, but appeared to be asleep.  
  
"I have a tricycle just like yours," said Alan, "and I know what it's capable of. I think you're from the future."  
  
The boy slowly opened his eyes.  
  
"Whatever you came here to tell me," said Alan firmly, "I don't want to hear it. It's extremely dangerous to tamper with the timeline."  
  
The boy took another deep breath. "Which is precisely what I came here to tell you, Alan," he said slowly.  
  
"You know my name," Alan observed with surprise.  
  
"I should know your name," said Jason. "I'm your son."  
  
(To be continued...) 


	4. Exposition at the Sugar Bowl

At first Alan didn't believe what Jason had told him. Then he began to weigh it in his mind. The boy did, after all, bear a striking resemblance, even though he was half aardvark.  
  
"You're my son," said Alan thoughtfully. "If that's true, then you shouldn't have told me. It's a little too much knowledge of the future."  
  
Jason sighed impatiently. "You would have figured it out sooner or later... Brain."  
  
Alan fingered his chin thoughtfully. "Yes, that's what they used to call me, until Beat came along."  
  
"Beat?" said Jason curiously.  
  
"The girl you saw me with," Alan explained. "Half aardvark and half rabbit. Speaking of which, if I'm your father, then that means I'll marry an aardvark. You're giving too much away just by being here, Jason."  
  
Jason slowly sat up and put his hand over the bandage on his head, grimacing with pain.  
  
"I'll let you rest," said Alan. "I shouldn't be asking you so many questions anyway."  
  
"No, it's all right," said Jason, shaking his head slightly.  
  
Alan started to pace back and forth in front of the bed. "The time tricycle. Is it..."  
  
"It's the same one," Jason explained, "only thirty years older."  
  
"A minute ago," said Alan, "you said you came here to tell me something. Is it about the future?"  
  
"Well, yes and no," said Jason.  
  
"I'm guessing," Brain continued, "that you're smart enough to not tell me anything, or do anything, that might interfere with the flow of time."  
  
"I am," Jason answered. "The question is, are you?"  
  
Alan stopped pacing and looked at Jason with a hint of concern.  
  
"It's harder than you think," Jason went on. "You have a power in your hands that nobody else has. You can change time. You can change the world. Are you sure you can resist the temptation to use that power irresponsibly?"  
  
Alan stared into space and fingered his chin again.  
  
"What if something happened to someone you love?" Jason asked him. "Would you go back in time and change it?"  
  
"No," said Alan firmly. "It would be too risky." He thought for a moment, then looked at Jason, worried. "Wait. Are you saying..."  
  
"I'm not saying anything."  
  
Alan stood silently and thought. His mind raced through the possible scenarios that Jason might be alluding to...  
  
----  
  
Gathered around a table at the Sugar Bowl were Arthur, Francine, Buster, and Beat, discussing the imminent departure of Buster and his family.  
  
"The movers are coming for our stuff on Friday," said Buster, "and then we fly to Chicago on Saturday."  
  
"We're really gonna miss you, Buster," said Francine.  
  
"Yeah," said Arthur. "Who will protect us from the aliens now?"  
  
"I've gotten over the alien thing," said Buster. "In fact, I'm thinking of becoming a professional skeptic, like James Randi."  
  
"I've heard of him," said Beat. "I understand he's offered a million dollars to anyone who can prove they have magical powers."  
  
At that moment, several hundred miles away, Prunella sat in front of a round table with a crystal ball on top. On the other side of the table sat a bald man with a white beard. They were in a small, completely bare room with white walls.  
  
"Spiritus Mundi," Prunella muttered. "Spiritus Mundi. Spiritus Mundi..."  
  
The crystal ball remained completely dark. The bald man nodded slightly. "I guess your Pomeranian friend is no longer on speaking terms with you," he said in a friendly voice.  
  
"I can't imagine why," said Prunella. "I only stopped her from taking over the world."  
  
"Thank you very much for your participation," said the bald man officiously as he rose from his stool.  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Randi," said the disappointed Prunella.  
  
As the two walked toward the door leading out of the room, the diabolical face of Pickles the Pomeranian appeared in the crystal ball, laughing maniacally.  
  
Meanwhile, at the Sugar Bowl, the conversation between Arthur, Francine, Buster, and Beat was interrupted when Sue Ellen entered the ice cream shop, followed by Van in his wheelchair.  
  
"Guess what, guys," said Sue Ellen as she approached their table. "Van got us a gig at the Heifer this weekend."  
  
"All right! Awesome!" exclaimed Francine.  
  
"Van, you da man!" said Arthur.  
  
"What's the Heifer?" Beat inquired.  
  
"What's a gig?" asked Buster.  
  
"The Heifer is one of Elwood City's premier jazz clubs," Van explained. "A gig is a booking. That means we get to play there."  
  
"Saturday night," Sue Ellen added.  
  
"Where's Alan?" asked Van. "I thought he would be here."  
  
"He stayed behind to help a boy who crashed on his tricycle," Beat informed him. "He passed the test, by the way."  
  
"That's great!" Sue Ellen exulted.  
  
"You'll be there for our performance, won't you, Beat?" Van asked.  
  
"I wouldn't miss it for all the tea in China."  
  
"Fern won't be singing with us, unfortunately," said Van. "She's still grounded."  
  
"And if she wasn't grounded," said Sue Ellen as she sat down at the table with the others, "she'd be in The Sound of Music."  
  
"Poor Fern," said Buster glumly. "I'll never forget her going ballistic on my mom. It was kinda cool, actually."  
  
"It was your mom who helped us get the gig," said Van. "She printed a good review of our quartet in the paper."  
  
Muffy walked into the shop and waved at the kids. "Hi, guys."  
  
"Hi, Muffy," said Francine and Van, also waving. Muffy stood near the doorway and didn't approach the table where the kids were seated.  
  
"My first day at Uppity Downs is tomorrow," she said. "I'll let you know how it goes, if I survive."  
  
"Come now, Muffy, it can't be that bad," Beat said to her.  
  
"Yes, it can," said Muffy, her voice becoming darker. "You'll never believe who my teacher is going to be."  
  
"Who is it?" asked Arthur.  
  
Muffy took a deep breath.  
  
"Cedric Pryce-Jones!"  
  
Arthur, Buster, Francine, and Sue Ellen screamed, wide-eyed in terror. Beat and Van looked at them with amazement.  
  
"Who is this Cedric Pryce-Jones?" asked Beat when they had stopped screaming. "He must be a terrible person."  
  
"We met him at the medieval fair last spring," said Francine fearfully.  
  
"He taught Mr. Ratburn," said Buster nervously. "He's the toughest teacher in the universe!"  
  
"His students are like robots," Arthur added. "They're invincible."  
  
"Silly geese, the lot of you," said Beat haughtily. "He sounds like a wonderful teacher. Where do I sign up?"  
  
The other kids, except for Van, gave her blank stares.  
  
"British people must be gluttons for punishment," Muffy remarked. "I'll see you guys later...I hope. 'Bye, Van." Waving farewell, she walked out of the ice cream shop and hopped into her limo, which was waiting outside.  
  
"Wish she could have stayed longer," said Francine.  
  
"Her dad doesn't want her to spend time with me," Van explained. "He doesn't get along well with my dad."  
  
At that moment a teenage poodle girl came up to the table, carrying an enormous chocolate fudge and calamari sundae on a tray. "Which one of you is Bluster?" she asked.  
  
"That's Buster," Buster corrected her. The girl placed the sundae in front of him and laid a spoon and napkin next to it. Buster grabbed the spoon and proceeded to stuff his face with ice cream, chocolate, and calamari.  
  
"Are you really gonna eat all that?" Van asked him.  
  
"Want some?" asked Buster, his mouth full of ice cream.  
  
"Uh...no, thanks," said Van, grimacing.  
  
"Thanksgiving is only a few weeks away," said Buster between (and during) spoonfuls. "I've got to start warming up now. It'll be my first Thanksgiving away from Elwood City."  
  
"I wish you wouldn't talk with your mouth full," Beat complained. "It's so impolite."  
  
"It'd be a lot quieter around here," Sue Ellen quipped.  
  
"What are the rest of you doing for the holiday?" Arthur asked.  
  
"We're going to visit our relatives," said Francine with a hint of boredom.  
  
"Our relatives are coming to visit us," said Van. "It's always a madhouse."  
  
"Carla and Nigel and I are going to Botswana to meet up with my parents," said Sue Ellen. "It'll be so exciting."  
  
"We English aren't accustomed to celebrating Thanksgiving," said Beat. "My parents and I are taking advantage of the holiday to travel back to England."  
  
"What about you, Arthur?" Buster asked, his mouth full again.  
  
"Oh, same old, same old." Arthur sighed.  
  
----  
  
Fern sat in front of the TV in her living room, looking extremely bored. Her mother entered from the kitchen, wearing a light blue jacket and clutching her purse.  
  
"I'll be back in about half an hour," she said to Fern. "No using the computer while I'm gone, okay?"  
  
"Okay, Mom," said Fern with an annoyed tone.  
  
Mrs. Walters glanced at the screen curiously. "What are you watching?"  
  
"It's one of those art house movies," Fern answered.  
  
"Good," said her mother as she quickly exited through the front door.  
  
As Fern watched, the image of a car driving down a lonely desert highway appeared on the TV screen. The driver, a brown rabbit man, gazed idly into the distance. This scene lasted for about half a minute, and then a mosquito smacked the windshield.  
  
She sighed, picked up the remote, and turned off the TV. Going to the window, she observed that the family car was no longer in the driveway. She hurried to the computer desk, smiling eagerly.  
  
Ever since grounding Fern, Mrs. Walters had always activated the screen saver on the computer before leaving the house. Unbeknownst to her, Fern had discovered the password by watching her type it repeatedly.  
  
After cancelling the screen saver, Fern opened the instant messenger program. It brought up her favorite chat room and displayed a list of those present. To her delight, the name Greta was in the list.  
  
She typed in a message: HI GRETA  
  
Seconds later, another message came back to her. HI FERN, STILL GROUNDED?  
  
(To be continued...) 


	5. England vs Thanksgiving

As Fern chatted with her cyber-friend Greta, Francine and Beat were doing the same thing they had done every day, after school, for the past two weeks-- practicing soccer.  
  
Francine kicked up the ball again and again with her right foot, then her left foot, as Beat stood anxiously in front of the net, serving as goalie. Then, without warning, Francine gave a mighty kick, putting a spin on the ball so that it arched to the left. Beat leaped to catch it, but it evaded her and rammed the net with tremendous force.  
  
Francine smiled joyfully, proud of what she had done. Beat pulled herself to her feet, also smiling. "That was excellent! I didn't see that one coming at all."  
  
"I'm getting better," said Francine. "I'll be ready for the World Cup soon."  
  
"The Women's World Cup, anyway," said Beat as she bent over to pick up the soccer ball.  
  
As the girls walked away from the field, Francine made an observation on the state of women's athletics. "I don't see why the women can't play on the same team with the men. It's not like you have to be big and brawny in order to win at soccer."  
  
"The world is full of injustice," Beat remarked. "What can you do?"  
  
The sky began to grow dark as they strolled down the sidewalk, Beat occasionally tossing up the ball and bouncing it off her aardvark nose. Then she threw it up in an arc, so that it came down toward Francine's face. Francine looked up and the ball hit her in the nose, knocking her flat on her back.  
  
"Oh, my goodness!" Beat exclaimed. "Are you all right?"  
  
The slightly dazed Francine sat up and rubbed her nose. "Yeah, I'm fine."  
  
Beat extended a hand to help Francine to her feet, then went to retrieve the ball from the yard it had rolled into. She rejoined Francine and they continued their walk down the street toward their apartments, which were three buildings away from each other.  
  
"You know what I'd like to do some day?" said Francine. "I'd like to go to a World Cup game."  
  
"Men's or women's?" Beat asked.  
  
"Either one."  
  
"My parents and I have tickets to the Manchester vs. Wolverhampton game," said Beat. "It's during Thanksgiving weekend."  
  
"Is it in England?" Francine inquired.  
  
"Yes. Manchester is David Beckham's team."  
  
Francine grinned with astonishment and delight. "Really? I'd give anything to see David Beckham play."  
  
"Anything?" said Beat, suddenly serious.  
  
"Yeah, anything." Then Francine noticed Beat's earnest expression. "What?"  
  
Beat lowered her face meekly. "Well, I wouldn't want to drag you away from your Thanksgiving holiday..."  
  
"What do you mean?" Francine asked, intrigued.  
  
Beat still didn't look up at Francine. "My...parents say I can take one of my friends to England, but I know you have family commitments..."  
  
Francine nearly fell backwards with joy.  
  
"You're...you're inviting me? Beat, I'd love to go!"  
  
Beat's ears perked up. She smiled bashfully at Francine. "You would?"  
  
"You bet I would!" said the ecstatic Francine. "I've never been out of the country before. Please, can I go with you? Please?"  
  
"Why, of course!" To Francine's surprise, Beat grabbed her in a strong bear hug. She looked up and down the street to make sure nobody was watching.  
  
Beat released her, still beside herself with unbelief. "It's all right with your mum and dad, innit? I mean, isn't it?"  
  
"I'll ask them," said the grateful-looking Francine, "but I can't see any reason why they shouldn't let me go."  
  
----  
  
"Absolutely not."  
  
"But, Dad!" cried Francine.  
  
"If it weren't Thanksgiving, I might agree to it," said Mr. Frensky, sitting on the couch next to his suddenly deflated daughter. "But we're not going to spend the entire holiday worrying about you getting lost in some strange city."  
  
"I won't get lost," Francine insisted. "I'll be with the Simons. They know the place."  
  
"You know what an important time of year Thanksgiving is to our family," Mr. Frensky continued. "Besides, great-grandfather Frensky is getting older, and we don't know how much longer he'll be with us."  
  
"Don't worry, Dad," said Francine sarcastically. "I've heard his Warsaw Ghetto stories so many times, I've got them memorized."  
  
"Francine Alice!" said Mrs. Frensky disapprovingly. "That's rude." She went back to mixing dough for a batch of cinnamon rolls.  
  
"Well, it's true. Every time he visits, it's the same old stories of misery and deprivation."  
  
"You're too young to appreciate it," said Mrs. Frensky, shaking her head. "He lived through all that. If he hadn't, you wouldn't be here. That's what we have to be thankful for."  
  
"Yeah, Mom, I know," said Francine with veiled anger. "But I want to go to England with Beat really, really badly. Isn't there some way to..."  
  
"No," said Mrs. Frensky firmly. "If you want to go with her, you'll have to postpone it."  
  
Francine rose from the couch. It was clear that she was struggling not to cry.  
  
"Fine," she grumbled. "I'll postpone it. To Hanukkah!" Clenching her fists, she marched furiously to her bedroom.  
  
"What's wrong, Frankie?" came Catherine's voice from the room.  
  
"Shut up!" was Francine's reply.  
  
----  
  
At the same time, Fern was enjoying a poem that her online friend Greta was sending her line by line:  
  
BUT THE OLD MAN WOULD NOT SO, BUT SLEW HIS SON, AND HALF THE SEED OF EUROPE, ONE BY ONE. WILFRED OWEN, THE PARABLE OF THE OLD MAN AND THE YOUNG  
  
Smiling dreamily, Fern began to type a response:  
  
SUCH A LOVELY POEM. SO PROFOUND AND TRAGIC.  
  
THANK YOU, came Greta's response.  
  
Fern looked up at the clock. Nearly half an hour had passed since her mother had left on her shopping trip.  
  
I NEED TO GO SOON, she typed. I THINK WE SHOULD TRY TO MEET THIS WEEKEND.  
  
I WOULD LIKE TO MEET YOU VERY MUCH, Greta typed back. WHEN AND WHERE?  
  
I'LL HAVE TO SLIP OUT SO MY PARENTS DON'T SEE ME, Fern typed. IF THEY KNOW I'M MEETING YOU, I'LL BE IN BIG TROUBLE.  
  
About half a minute passed before Greta's response appeared. I THINK WE SHOULD MEET IN A PUBLIC PLACE.  
  
SOMEONE MIGHT SEE ME AND TELL MY PARENTS, Fern responded. I'LL BE GROUNDED FOR ANOTHER TWO WEEKS, OR POSSIBLY THE REST OF MY LIFE.  
  
I'D RATHER MEET IN A PUBLIC PLACE, Greta typed. IT'S SAFER THAT WAY.  
  
WHY? Fern asked.  
  
From the corner of her eye, she saw through the window what appeared to be her mother pulling into the driveway. She had no time left.  
  
Then Greta's answer appeared. I DON'T KNOW WHO YOU REALLY ARE. YOU COULD BE A KIDNAPPER.  
  
Fern gasped. How could Greta suppose such a thing about her?  
  
Anger filled her heart as she quickly closed the chat room window. She returned to the couch, picked up the remote, and switched on the TV. On the screen, the brown rabbit man was still driving along the lonely desert highway, and there were more bugs splattered on the windshield than before.  
  
Moments later, Mrs. Walters came through the front door, carrying two large sacks of groceries. Fern jumped to her feet. "Let me help you with those, Mom."  
  
"That's a good girl," said Fern's mother. Fern grabbed one of the grocery bags from under her arm. As she started to tote it toward the kitchen, she glanced over at the computer screen...and a bolt of fear raced through her mind.  
  
She had forgotten to restart the screen saver...  
  
Thinking quickly, she pretended to trip over a nearby table leg. She fell on her face, dropping the bag and scattering food items over the floor.  
  
"Oh, no!" she groaned. "I'm sorry, Mom."  
  
"It's okay," said Mrs. Walters. "I'll take care of it."  
  
She rested the other grocery bag on the table, bent over, and started to collect the fallen goods. Fern tiptoed to the computer, manipulated the mouse quietly, and activated the screen saver program. She had never been so relieved to see wave after wave of flying accordions being shot down by a digitized man with a rifle.  
  
"I don't think I'll be needing it again for a while," Fern said bitterly to herself. "That stupid Greta."  
  
(To be continued...) 


	6. Uppity Downs, Day 1

The next morning, as Beat was walking towards Mr. Wald's classroom, she was confronted by Alan and Jason, who was wearing a bandage on his forehead and had his light brown pack strapped to his back.  
  
"Good morning, Alan," Beat said warmly. "And good morning...er..."  
  
"Jason," said Alan. "His name is Jason Powers. If anybody asks you, he's my cousin."  
  
Beat gave Alan a surprised stare. "Your cousin? But you only met him..."  
  
"If anybody asks you," said Alan more firmly, "he's my cousin. Got it?"  
  
"Uh...right," Beat muttered.  
  
"Would you mind escorting him to Bud's class?" Alan requested. "I'm a fifth grader now, so I'll be attending Mr. Baker's class."  
  
"Gladly," said Beat. Taking Jason by the arm, she led him in the direction of the fourth-grade classroom.  
  
"Where did you get a name like Beat?" Jason asked her.  
  
"It's short for Beatrice."  
  
"Oh." Jason looked around at the other kids as he and Beat drew closer to their destination. "Beatrice, do you ever encounter hostility as a result of being a half-and-half?" he asked.  
  
"A what?"  
  
"You know," Jason continued, "half one species, half another. Like you and me."  
  
"Oh." Beat thought for a moment. "No, I don't. People have become more tolerant of that sort of thing."  
  
Beat and Jason stepped through the open door into Mr. Wald's room. The teacher and the assembled kids all looked with interest at the unfamiliar boy, who they assumed was a new addition to their class. Beat took advantage of the silence to introduce Jason.  
  
"This is Jason Powers," she announced. "He's Alan's cousin."  
  
"I wasn't notified that a new student would be joining us," said Mr. Wald, rising from his desk. "Where are you from, Jason?"  
  
"Uh...Walla Walla, Washington," Jason improvised.  
  
Binky chuckled. "That's not a real place. You made it up."  
  
"How long will you be in our class?" Mr. Wald asked Jason.  
  
"Indefinitely," Jason replied.  
  
Mr. Wald turned to the class. "Who can tell me what indefinitely means?"  
  
The seated kids looked at each other blankly.  
  
"Come on, kids," the teacher went on, "I really don't know what it means."  
  
The kids laughed at Bud's pretension of ignorance.  
  
Jason answered the teacher's question as Beat sat down next to Francine.  
  
"Indefinitely means without a predetermined length of time. In other words, I may be here for a day, or a month, or a year. I have no way of knowing."  
  
"Thank you, Jason," said Mr. Wald. "You may be seated."  
  
Jason took a seat near the front, next to Arthur. "And if you don't know what that word means," he addressed the teacher, "then you should seriously consider taking up a new occupation."  
  
Arthur nudged him. "He was joking." The kids chuckled.  
  
Mr. Wald picked up a piece of chalk and wrote his name on the board. "Let's get started. Jason, my name is Bud Wald, but everybody here calls me Bud. Whether you choose to call me Mr. Wald, Bud, or Mr. Bud, is between you and your conscience."  
  
----  
  
Dread filled Muffy's heart as she stepped through the open classroom door in the red brick bastion of intellectualism known as Uppity Downs Academy. The room was unlike any she had seen. In place of pictures of U.S. presidents and letters of the alphabet, the walls were adorned with pictures of classical composers and cards with Latin verbs printed on them. Where there should have been a blackboard with sticks of chalk and erasers, there was a whiteboard with markers. The tops of the desks were clean and well varnished, and the kids who sat at them wore the finest and most expensive clothing. She recognized a few of the children as being members of the team that had humiliated them at the medieval fair.  
  
At a handsome-looking redwood desk at the front of the room sat Cedric Pryce-Jones, glancing over his papers through rimless spectacles. It seemed odd to Muffy that class had not yet started, but the children sat still and quiet. They appeared to regard the place as a holy shrine, whose peace must not be broken.  
  
Mr. Pryce-Jones looked up from his papers. "Muffy Crosswire," he said officiously, his voice echoing off the walls and floor.  
  
"Yes," said Muffy, as if to congratulate him on the correct pronunciation of her name.  
  
"What's that?" said Mr. Pryce-Jones, cupping his hand over his ear.  
  
"Yes," Muffy repeated with a little more volume. The room's acoustics seemed vastly inferior to those of her old classroom at Lakewood Elementary.  
  
"I can't hear you," said the teacher.  
  
Muffy opened her mouth as if to speak louder, but then recognized the game that he was playing with her. Humbly she said, "Yes, Mr. Pryce-Jones...sir."  
  
"Much better. Have a seat. Choose any desk you like."  
  
Muffy walked to the back of the room, sat down at the remotest desk she could find, and pulled off her backpack. The other students watched her, but didn't say a word.  
  
Mr. Pryce-Jones rose to his feet and picked up a blue marker. "Boys and girls, welcome to class. The girl you can barely see, way back there in row ZZ of the stadium, is Mary Alice Crosswire, better known to you as Muffy. As you have probably guessed, her father is the driving force--no pun intended--behind Crosswire Motors. We're happy to have her in our class. Let's extend a warm welcome to our newest student, Muffy Crosswire."  
  
The kids apathetically waved at Muffy and said hello. She smiled and waved back.  
  
Mr. Pryce-Jones paced slowly back and forth in front of the whiteboard. "Many years ago, in this very room, I taught an eager third-grade boy named Nigel Ratburn. That boy has now grown up to become a teacher himself, and Muffy is one of those fortunate enough to learn wisdom at his feet. Now, Muffy, if you would kindly recite the Greek alphabet for us."  
  
Fear seized hold of Muffy's brain. "Uh...er...which alphabet?" she stammered.  
  
"Uh...er...which alphabet, Mr. Pryce-Jones, sir," the teacher corrected her. "I believe I asked for the Greek alphabet. The one that begins with alpha and beta, from which we derive the English word alphabet."  
  
Muffy's mouth gaped open, but no sound came out. She struggled to recall even one Greek letter she had been exposed to.  
  
"As you can see," said Mr. Pryce-Jones, waving his marker, "the younger generation of elementary-school teachers have no appreciation for the basis on which our civilization was built. I look forward to spending many Saturdays with you, Muffy."  
  
Muffy groaned despairingly.  
  
(To be continued...) 


	7. The Party Line

After leaving Jason in Beat's custody, Alan made his way to room 24, where Mr. Baker taught fifth grade. The teacher, a somewhat overweight hippo man, had just started the roll call. He smiled when Alan entered the classroom. 

"Welcome, Alan," he said in an unexpectedly high-pitched voice. "Class, this is Alan Powers. He passed the advanced placement test, so he's transferring here from Mr. Wald's fourth grade class."

"Hi, Alan," said Marina, who sat at the front of the room with her cane lying next to her desk. Alan noticed with surprise that, despite the fact that she was blind, she was looking directly at him.

Alan seated himself at a desk next to Marina. "Where's Prunella?" he whispered to her.

"I've given Prunella a few days off from school," explained Mr. Baker, who had apparently overheard Alan's whisper.

"A few days off?" Alan repeated. "In exchange for what?"

At that moment, Prunella was belted into the passenger seat of a '93 Sonata, driven by her sister, Rubella. She held a script in front of her, and repeated the lines over and over again.

"So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, good night," she sang, "I hate to go and leave this pretty sight..."

Rubella made an annoyed grimace. "Don't you ever take a break, Prunie?"

Prunella lowered the script onto her lap. "I've got until Saturday to learn this part. That's only three more days. I can't afford to take breaks."

"Maybe Fern's mom will suddenly have a change of heart," Rubella said hopefully.

"If only Pickles had been more cooperative," Prunella lamented, "I'd be a millionaire now, and I could hire someone to play Marta."

She picked up the script again and began to recite. "Can we really keep the puppet show, Uncle Max?"

A road sign passed by with the message, ELWOOD CITY, 120 MILES. Rubella sighed with exasperation. Finally she tuned the radio to a rock station and turned it to full volume, drowning out Prunella's line reading.

"I'm Marta, and I'm going to be seven on...hey!"

Meanwhile, in Mr. Baker's class, Alan pushed the teacher for an explanation of his policy towards Prunella.

"I don't like your idea of giving a student time off from school just for doing you a favor," he said with an indignant air.

"I do things a little differently from other teachers," said Mr. Baker. "Besides, it was an emergency. Fern's mother grounded her, and the understudy dropped out."

"The show must go on," said the cat boy Floyd Walton, who sat two desks away from Alan.

"Indeed." Mr. Baker put on his reading glasses so that he could make out the list of students. "Maxwell Thomas Alwyn."

"Here," said a dog boy who was wearing a bicycle helmet.

"Bonnie Josephine Chandler."

"Here," said a blond elephant girl.

"Patricia Marianne Duff."

"Here," said a bespectacled aardvark girl with unruly brown hair.

"Harold Mowgli Farmer."

"Uh...here," said a shy-looking polar bear boy.

"Marina Belle Messersmith."

"Here," said the blind rabbit girl.

"Prunella Priscilla Prufrock, not here. Lucy de los Santos."

"Yo," said a Latina monkey girl who wore spiky hair and a heavy metal shirt.

"Floyd William Walton."

"Here," said the handsome-looking cat boy.

"Toru Watanabe."

"Here," said a Japanese monkey boy.

"And, written at the bottom of the list in letters so small I can hardly read them, Alan Powers."

"Here," said Alan.

Mr. Baker laid the sheet on the desk and picked up a piece of chalk, with which he wrote his name, Ralph Baker, on the board.

"Alan, I understand that your fourth-grade friends call you The Brain," said the teacher.

"They used to," Alan answered.

"That's good," Mr. Baker continued. "We can use a brain in our class. We're all struggling."

The kids chuckled. Alan smiled.

"Now let's get started." Mr. Baker wrote on the chalkboard, and his nose was so large that he had to stretch his writing arm to its full extent. "Who can tell me what this is?"

He backed away from the board, and Alan saw that he had drawn the Greek letter pi. The other kids were silent, so he raised his hand.

"That's pi," he stated. "The Greek letter pi. Also known as the circumference of a circle divided by its diameter."

Mr. Baker's mouth was so wide that several seconds passed before he managed to form a complete smile. "Very good, Alan. I don't know how we got along without you."

Alan smiled again. He was going to like fifth grade.

By the time the bell rang, all the other kids in Mr. Baker's class were in awe of Alan's intellect. They congratulated him while exiting the classroom.

"You truly are The Brain," Maxwell said to him humbly. "I bow to your superiority, dude."

"A common name like Alan doesn't suit you," said Floyd.

"Hasta la vista, baby," said Lucy in a sultry voice.

As Harold walked by, he lacked the courage to even look up at Alan.

"Hey...uh...Harold," Alan greeted him.

"Hi," said Harold weakly.

"What's your middle name again?" Alan asked him.

"Mowgli." The boy slowly raised his eyes. "Kipling is my mom's favorite writer."

"I like it," said Alan with a friendly grin. "Can I call you Mowgli?"

"It's a free country," Harold muttered.

As he walked away, Marina came up to Alan and looked directly into his eyes.

"Hey, Marina," he said. _I wonder how she does that?_ he thought.

"You've lost weight, Alan," Marina told him.

Alan watched her curiously as she walked toward the center court, tapping with her cane. He wondered if the girl had a mysterious sixth sense that allowed her to perceive things that sighted people could not.

As he meandered down the hallway, he saw a group of his friends gathered in the court. Beat was holding her cell phone to her ear (or, more accurately, to the side of her head), while the rest of the kids in Mr. Wald's class were gathered around her, following her conversation.

"How was your first day at Uppity Downs, Muffy?" Beat spoke into the cell phone.

At the private school, Muffy stood in front of a well-polished water fountain, talking to Beat on her cell phone. "Oh, it was a nightmare!" she complained. "I didn't understand a thing. It was all Greek to me."

Beat lowered her phone slightly and addressed the surrounding kids, which now included Alan. "She said it's a nightmare," she recounted.

The kids giggled. "Wake up, Muffy!" Francine cried out. "It's all a bad dream. You're still at Lakewood."

"Did you hear that?" Beat spoke into her phone.

"Very funny, Francine," Muffy spoke into hers. "But things are bound to get better. The next period is music class, and I'm ready to charm them all with the beautiful sounds of my Stradivarius."

Beat addressed the other kids again. "She said she's going to charm them with her Stradivarius."

The kids clutched their ears and grimaced in mock agony.

"Oh, the pain, the pain!" cried Binky.

Buster pulled his ears down and pretended to nibble on one of them. "Must...chew off...ears..." he mumbled frantically.

"Stop making fun of Muffy," said Van, glaring indignantly at his friends.

"Did you catch all of that?" Beat asked Muffy.

"Every word," Muffy replied. "Thanks for sticking up for me, Van."

"Ask her about the party," Sue Ellen said to Beat.

Muffy heard this and slapped her forehead. "Oh, right, the party! I've had so much else on my mind. Well, I know this much. It's not gonna be at my house. Not as long as Van isn't welcome."

Beat lowered her phone. "The party will not be at Muffy's house."

The kids groaned. "But Muffy has the coolest house and the biggest TV," George observed.

"Then what'll we do?" asked Buster. "We can't have it at my place. All the furniture will be gone."

"My apartment's too small," said Francine.

"Mine too," Beat added.

"And I'm still grounded," said Fern.

"And my house is too crowded already," Van contributed.

"And we're putting in new carpet," said Arthur.

"And my house doesn't have a ramp for Van to get in," Sue Ellen noted.

"Neither does mine," said George.

"And we're about to spray for fleas," said Alan.

"And my house is..." Binky began.

The other kids turned and stared at him.

"...perfect in every way," he finished, looking a bit downcast.

"We've never had a party at Binky's before, have we?" said Francine.

"It must be because of that big sign that says, DANGER, CLOBBERING ZONE, KEEP OUT," said Arthur.

"Gosh, is that thing still up there?" said Binky with mock surprise. "I could've sworn I took it down."

"Then it's settled," said Beat, lifting her cell phone to her mouth again. "The farewell party will be at Binky's."

"I hope you all have a good time," Muffy said to her over the cellular link. "I'm afraid I won't be there. My parents won't like it if Van and I go to a party together."

Beat talked to the other kids. "She said she won't be at the party, because she can't be seen with Van."

"If Muffy won't be there," said Van firmly, "then I won't either."

"Oh, come on, Van!" Buster exclaimed.

Binky had a thought. "Wait. If Van doesn't come, we don't need a ramp. We can go to Sue Ellen's place."

"Don't try to weasel your way out of this, Binky," Sue Ellen retorted.

Buster raised his hands. "Hold on, guys. The party's not really that important to me. I've had so many good times with you already. If Muffy and Van can't come because of their stupid family feud, then I say we call off the party, as a form of silent protest."

"I missed that last part," said Muffy into her phone.

"She missed the last part," Beat said to Buster.

"SILENT PROTEST!" shouted Buster.

"Why not have two parties?" Francine suggested. "Muffy goes to one, and Van goes to the other."

"Yeah," said Binky. "Muffy can go to the party at Sue Ellen's house."

"D'oh!" Sue Ellen grunted.

"I have an even better idea," said Mr. Wald, who had suddenly appeared in front of the group of kids. "Let's all go to class and figure this out later."

"Oh, heavens, we're late!" Beat lamented. "Muffy, we'll have to decide this another time."

"Okay, Beat. Bye." Muffy hung up the cell phone, hurried to her locker, used the remote control on her keychain to deactivate the alarm, and pulled out the case containing her Stradivarius violin.

Moments later she arrived in the classroom, toting her violin and smiling hopefully. Her smile faded as Mr. Pryce-Jones walked toward her and looked down at her sternly.

"You're late."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Pryce-Jones, sir."

"Being sorry is no excuse. It will not happen again. Now, please be seated.

Carrying her violin case, Muffy slowly and dejectedly returned to her desk in the back of the room.

As Mr. Pryce-Jones removed a vinyl album from its cover and started to place it on a turntable, he glanced at Muffy. "Why have you brought a violin, Muffy?" he asked her.

Muffy didn't raise her eyes to meet the teacher's. "Uh...I was hoping I could play it for you, Mr. Pryce-Jones, sir."

"And indeed you shall..." the teacher began.

Muffy started to smile again.

"...during recess."

Muffy started to frown again.

"Please prepare your pencils and notebooks," Mr. Pryce-Jones announced. "For our music lesson today, we will listen to the final movement of Mahler's Ninth Symphony in its entirety. As you listen, I want you to write down any observations you have about the music. Observations about the compositional methods, the interpretation, the meaning behind the music, and most importantly, how the music affects you. Begin now."

He set down the needle, and the slow-moving, slightly scratchy music started to play. And play. And play.

The kids in front of Muffy wrote furiously. She couldn't imagine what they were seeing in what appeared to her as an unending dirge.

Five minutes into the piece, she wrote down on the blank sheet of paper, IT'S REALLY SLOW.

Ten minutes into it, she wrote, IT'S REALLY LONG.

After fifteen minutes, she wrote, HOW DID HE STAY AWAKE TO WRITE THIS?

Twenty minutes passed. It seemed to her like the music kept going back to where it started. She wrote, I HAVE TO GO TO THE BATHROOM.

To distract herself from her drooping eyelids and full bladder, she started to draw a sketch of Arthur with a long aardvark tongue coming out of his mouth. She paid no more attention to the music, which had become almost inaudible anyway.

Suddenly she was snapped back to alertness by the grinding sound of a phonograph needle being lifted from an album.

"Very good," said the teacher in a voice that seemed jarring after the quiet ending of the music. "Now write your names at the top, turn in your notes to me, and enjoy your recess."

Muffy watched as the other kids dropped their papers on the desk in front of Mr. Pryce-Jones, then left the classroom without evidencing any joy over the prospect of a little recreation on the playground.

As she approached the desk, Mr. Pryce-Jones reached over and snatched the paper from her hand. He looked over it for a second.

"Hmm...really slow and really long," he muttered to himself. "Well, I can't argue with that," he said to Muffy, "but you're only looking at the surface of the music. As a homework assignment, I'd like you to purchase a CD of this symphony, then listen to it at home. Listen to it again and again until it starts to mean something to you."

"Yes, Mr. Pryce-Jones, sir." Muffy felt as though she had just been sentenced to spend eternity in an awful dungeon.

"Now, then." The teacher's expression suddenly became gleeful. "I know how much you want to demonstrate your skill on the violin, so by all means, proceed. Unless you'd like to go to the bathroom first."

Without answering, Muffy pulled open the violin case and raised the instrument to her shoulder. Taking the bow in her other hand, she began to play a rather dissonant, off-key melody.

Mr. Pryce-Jones' expression became less and less gleeful. By the time Muffy was finished playing, he had covered his face with his hands.

"Well? What do you think...er, Mr. Pryce-Jones, sir?" she asked, smiling obliviously.

The teacher lowered his hands. "Put your instrument away, Muffy."

Muffy complied, placing the violin and bow in the case and snapping it shut.

Mr. Pryce-Jones took a few deep breaths. Then he said, "Muffy, have you ever been tested for tone-deafness?"

(To be continued...)


	8. Render unto Jason

While Muffy endured Mr. Pryce-Jones' harsh criticism, the kids at Lakewood enjoyed a leisurely recess. On one of the seesaws, Francine and Beat casually rose up and down while discussing the situation with the trip to England.  
  
"I should talk to your parents," Beat suggested. "Maybe I can get them to change their minds."  
  
"I wouldn't count on it," said Francine. "This is one of those traditional family things that can't be touched."  
  
"My family is the exact opposite," Beat told her. "Nothing's sacred to them. They think a holiday is nothing more than an excuse to take a holiday."  
  
"What did you say?" asked Francine, confused.  
  
"In England, the word holiday can mean a holiday, like Christmas, or a vacation. My dad's philosophy is, why waste two perfectly good days away from work by sitting around a fire and exchanging gifts?"  
  
As she spoke, Alan walked up to them. "Either of you girls seen Jason?" he asked.  
  
Beat quickly leaped from the seesaw, causing Francine to plummet to the ground. "Thanks for reminding me, Alan. He asked me to give you this note." She pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to Alan.  
  
As the boy walked away, Francine came up to Beat, rubbing her painful rear end. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry," Beat apologized.  
  
"Sorry, schmorry," said Francine. "You still owe me a new butt."  
  
Not far away from them, Buster and Sue Ellen sat on swings, chatting about Buster's imminent departure.  
  
"Organizing this party has been such a mess," Sue Ellen told him. "Muffy's the expert at this sort of thing, but she's not much use to us now that she's attending a new school. And I have to get the quartet ready for the concert on Saturday, so I just don't have time to host a party."  
  
"It's okay," Buster reassured her. "You don't have to throw a party to show me that you care. Just hold me down and smother me with kisses, and I'll understand."  
  
Sue Ellen grimaced. "You wish."  
  
Seated on a nearby bench, Alan opened the note from Jason and began to read. The words filled him with surprise and anxiety.  
  
"Dear Alan: Your fourth grade is the equivalent of my second grade, so I can learn nothing new by attending class. I have gone into the city to take care of some matters regarding my stay here, which may be extended. You and your parents were kind enough to give me room and board for an evening, but I do not wish to prevail too much on your hospitality. Do not worry abot me, as I have the means to provide for myself. I will come for my tricycle tonight, and at that time I will let you know where I am staying. Love, your cousin, Jason. P.S. You are absolutely right about the dangers of altering the past. Always keep them in mind."  
  
Alan gripped the note tightly. "I can't let a kid from the future wander freely around the city," he told himself. "I've got to find him."  
  
While Alan weighed his options, Jason meandered down the sidewalk next to Main Street in downtown Elwood City. In the midst of the various store fronts he found the one that he was seeking: Stephanie's Jewelry and Coins.  
  
Through the glass door he could see a squirrelly woman in a blue dress, who was busily dusting some coins in a display case. He rang the buzzer. To his surprise the woman lifted up her tail, which had been hidden under her dress, and used it to press the door release button. Jason heard a clicking sound, and he pushed the door open to enter the shop.  
  
The squirrelly woman smiled at Jason in a cutesy manner. She was Maria Harris, Nadine's mother.  
  
"Hello, little boy," she said warmly. "Aren't you supposed to be in school right now?"  
  
"I'm...er...home-schooled," Jason lied. "My parents have sent me on an important errand to help teach me responsibility."  
  
"I see," said Mrs. Harris. "And what errand is that?"  
  
Jason walked up to the counter behind which the clerk was standing, pulled off his backpack, and stuck his hand into the top. An opening in the fabric seemed to magically appear, allowing his hand to pass through. After feeling about for a few seconds, he pulled out what appeared to be a gold coin.  
  
He placed the coin on the counter in front of Mrs. Harris. "How much will you give me for this?" he asked in a mature voice.  
  
The woman picked up the coin and examined it curiously. It was unlike any coin she had seen before. On one side was an engraving of Jason's face. On the other were imprinted the words, REPUBLIC OF JASON, 2032.  
  
"I'll be right back," said Mrs. Harris. She turned and went into a back room, where she found the store's proprietor, Stephanie Poulos, who was examining a diamond ring through an eyepiece. "You'll never believe this," she said, placing the coin on the table in front of Stephanie.  
  
The store owner, a middle-aged duck woman, held it up to her eyepiece for a few seconds. "It's gold, all right. Some kid's been minting his own gold coins."  
  
Mrs. Harris leaned over Stephanie's shoulder. "How much do you think we should pay him for it?" she asked.  
  
Stephanie handed the coin back to her. "Offer him half the market price. Nobody's gonna buy a coin with a date in the future, except to melt it down."  
  
While Jason was browsing a display of 19th-century stamps, Mrs. Harris returned with the coin. "Since this isn't a standard-issue coin," she explained, "I'll give you half the market price for it. Two hundred dollars."  
  
Jason looked up from the stamps. "I accept. Can I have that in cash?"  
  
Mrs. Harris opened the register and started to count out twenties. "Did you make this coin yourself?" she asked Jason.  
  
"It has my face on it," Jason replied.  
  
Mrs. Harris grasped the money in her hand as if unwilling to relinquish it until Jason answered her questions. "Why did you put the year 2032 on it?"  
  
"I'm a time traveler," Jason explained. "I come from a future age where gold is synthesized and plentiful."  
  
Mrs. Harris chuckled. "You have quite an imagination. Where are your parents?"  
  
"Outside, waiting for me," Jason answered.  
  
"Where do you live?" the clerk asked.  
  
"I can't tell you that."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because you're a stranger."  
  
Mrs. Harris chuckled again, and handed the money to Jason. Without a word, he turned and exited the store.  
  
As the intrigued Mrs. Harris watched him go, Stephanie came out of the back room, eyepiece in hand. "We got him on the security camera," she said. "I'll email the local schools tomorrow and hopefully find out who he is."  
  
About half an hour later, Jason strolled up to the receptionist's desk in the Mairzydoat hotel. By standing on tiptoes, he was able to reach high enough to ring the service bell. Shortly a uniformed teenage boy came to the desk. "How can I help you?" he asked.  
  
"I'd like to rent a room for the night," said Jason. "I'll pay you in cash."  
  
(To be continued...) 


	9. Beat's Final Answer

The final bell had rung, and the kids were exiting their classrooms. The students in Mr. Baker's class surrounded Alan as he walked down the hall.  
  
"Hey, Brain, can you help me with this math problem?" Patricia asked him.  
  
"Brain, you are the coolest," Maxwell complimented him.  
  
"You're the smartest boy I've ever met," Toru said to him, "and I'm from Japan."  
  
As his new friends praised his intelligence, Alan's head seemed to grow larger and larger.  
  
In the meantime, Fern caught up with Van in front of the school entrance as he sat in his wheelchair, waiting for his sister Quinn to come and pick him up.  
  
"Hi, Van," she said. "Hey, I've been thinking of something."  
  
"You're always thinking of something," Van replied.  
  
Fern lowered her voice, and looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "Have you ever thought of meeting with Muffy in secret?"  
  
Van gazed into space and thought for a moment. "Yeah, I've thought of that," he finally said, "but I don't get out much as it is, so it would be really hard for me to meet her in a secret place."  
  
"I know a place that's not far from where you live," Fern continued. "It's near the creek. Nobody ever goes there. I was planning to meet a new friend there, but it didn't quite work out."  
  
"I don't know, Fern," said Van thoughtfully. "It could be risky. Why are you so interested in me and Muffy, anyway?"  
  
"This whole thing between your dad and Mr. Crosswire makes me sick," Fern replied. "If you and Muffy like each other, then you should be allowed to see each other. So what if your dad is suing her dad? Besides, I like the change that's come over Muffy since she met you."  
  
"You mean she's not an obnoxious snob anymore."  
  
"Yeah. I like that."  
  
Van lowered his head for a moment. "Well, I suppose I could tell my mom and dad that I'm tired of being cooped up in the house, so I just want to go down to the creek and have a little time to myself. They'd probably believe me."  
  
"Great," said Fern. "I'll call Muffy and see what she thinks of the idea."  
  
At that moment, Quinn Cooper pulled her Buick up to the curb. Odette jumped out and opened the door in preparation for helping Van into the car.  
  
"Well, I'll see you, Van," said Fern as she started to walk away.  
  
"See you later, Pandarus," Van called to her. Fern turned her head, smiled understandingly, and kept walking.  
  
----  
  
Francine and Beat postponed their usual soccer practice and headed directly to Francine's apartment building. The girls noted that Muffy's limo was parked by the curb in front of the building.  
  
"Good, she's here," said Francine. "Now she can tell us all about Uppity Downs and Mr. Pryce-Jones."  
  
"What I wouldn't give to be Muffy right now," said Beat dreamily.  
  
As they entered the apartment, they were immediately greeted by Muffy and Catherine.  
  
"Hey, Muffy," said Francine. "How was your first day of private school?"  
  
"It was horrible," Muffy lamented as she sat down with the girls on the living room couch. "Only now do I realize how easy I had it with Mr. Ratburn. The other kids in my class are geniuses. All they talk about during the class breaks is Einstein and Michelangelo and Mahler."  
  
"You're covering Einstein?" Catherine marveled. "I'm in my last year of high school, and I still haven't learned anything about him."  
  
"My parents and I love Mahler," said Beat. "We have CDs with all his symphonies."  
  
"I know about Michelangelo," said Francine. "He made that statue of the lady with no arms."  
  
Muffy sighed. "Mr. Pryce_Jones gave me an assignment in music class. He says I have to listen to Mahler's ninth something-or-other over and over again until I understand it."  
  
"I'll let you borrow my CD," Beat offered. "The Ninth is such a beautiful work. He wrote it when he was dying of a heart condition, and his wife was having an affair with..."  
  
"Shut up, Beat," said Muffy sharply. "How am I supposed to know all of that stuff? I'm only nine years old."  
  
"What you need is a little extra help," Francine observed.  
  
"But who can help me?" Muffy moaned. "Mr. Ratburn's only a third-grade teacher, and Mr. Wald is nowhere near as tough as Pryce-Jones."  
  
"What about our old teacher, Mrs. Stiles?" Beat suggested.  
  
Muffy grimaced slightly. "Not her. Didn't you read about the things she did in Hollywood? I don't want to be associated with someone like that."  
  
"I'm sorry, Muffy," said Francine, throwing up her hands. "I'm out of ideas."  
  
"I have an idea that would benefit both you and me," Beat said to Muffy. "Unfortunately, the technology doesn't exist yet."  
  
"Technology?" said Muffy, surprised.  
  
Beat fantasized that she and Muffy were sitting in a scientist's laboratory. Electrodes were attached to their heads, connected to wires that led into a complicated-looking electronic device. In front of them stood a young man in a white scientist's smock.  
  
"Now, you may experience a little dizziness or nausea after the transfer is complete," said the scientist.  
  
"Just get on with it, Dr. Crankenstern," Beat urged him.  
  
"Very well." Dr. Crankenstern reached up and grasped a large electrical switch attached to the wall. Slowly and carefully, he pulled the switch to the down position.  
  
Muffy glanced around the laboratory. "Nothing happened," she said, surprised.  
  
"Oh, I was just turning on the air conditioning," said the scientist. "It's hot in here."  
  
Dr. Crankenstern walked over to the electronic device to which Muffy and Beat were connected. He pushed a small red button. The machine started to hum, and waves of electricity shot through the wires into the girls' heads. For several seconds their bodies writhed and jiggled...then the humming stopped, and Beat and Muffy sat perfectly still with dazed expressions on their faces.  
  
Muffy looked down at her body. "It worked!" she exclaimed. Although she was still speaking with her own voice, she now had an English accent.  
  
"It's fantastic, Doctor!" Beat now spoke like a native-born American. She pulled down her rabbit ears and examined them with wonder.  
  
"Excellent," Dr. Crankenstern exulted. "That'll be fifty thousand dollars."  
  
Beat stretched out her hand in Muffy's direction. "I believe you have my wallet," she said in Muffy's haughty tone of voice.  
  
"Oh, right," said Muffy, reaching into her pocket. "How silly of me."  
  
Later that day, Muffy returned to the Crosswire mansion after an enjoyable day at Uppity Downs, and was greeted by her parents. "How was your day at school?" her mother asked.  
  
"Simply lovely, Mum," Muffy replied. "Today I learned about the code of Hammurabi, and the use of modes in Renaissance music, and how to calculate square roots in my head."  
  
"Why are you speaking with a British accent?" asked Mr. Crosswire.  
  
"Oh, that's another thing I learned," said Muffy, smiling.  
  
Meanwhile, Beat arrived at her apartment, where her mother was writing a novel on the computer and her father was reading the newspaper.  
  
"How was school today?" asked Mr. Simon, lowering the paper.  
  
"Pretty good," said Beat. "Mr. Wald told some good jokes, and I think I'm finally starting to understand fractions. But soccer was tough. For some reason I'm not playing as well as I used to."  
  
"I see you've learned to speak with an American accent," Mrs. Simon noted.  
  
"Mom, can you give me a ride to the mall?" Beat asked. "I need to buy a new wardrobe. My clothes are soooo last year."  
  
Beat's fantasy came to an end as Muffy looked at her with disgust. "Eww! I'd have to go through life with vomitrocious rabbit ears."  
  
"You'd hear better," said Beat.  
  
After another moment's thought, Muffy turned to Beat hopefully. "Are you sure the technology doesn't exist? Have you checked the latest issue of Popular Science?"  
  
Beat rolled her eyes. "It doesn't exist, Muffy."  
  
Francine looked at her mother, who was in the kitchen loading soiled plates into the dishwasher. "Mom, I think Beat has something to ask you," she called.  
  
Mrs. Frensky looked up from her dishes. "What is it?"  
  
"Oh, right," said Beat. "Mrs. Frensky, I was wondering if there's anything I can do or say that would convince you to let Francine go with me and my parents to England."  
  
Muffy and Catherine rose from the couch and started to leave the room when they realized in what direction the conversation was heading.  
  
"Change the date," said Mrs. Frensky firmly. "Thanksgiving is out of the question."  
  
"It's not that simple," said Beat, sounding somewhat discouraged. "My dad has to teach. The holidays are the only time we can go."  
  
Mrs. Frensky closed the dishwasher, walked into the living room, and sat down in a chair. "Then Francine isn't going with you," she told Beat. "You may see Thanksgiving as an excuse to go on a pleasure trip, but for us Frenskys, it's much more meaningful."  
  
Francine looked at Beat, as if she expected the brainy girl to think of a mathematical solution to her dilemma. After several seconds of deep thought, Beat looked back at Francine. "Your mother's left me no alternative," she said ominously.  
  
Beat stared piercingly into Mrs. Frensky's eyes. "If Francine doesn't go to England, then I don't go either."  
  
"No, Beat!" cried the alarmed Francine.  
  
"Yes, Beat!" Beat shot back. "It's the only thing I have to bargain with."  
  
"You can do whatever you want," Mrs. Frensky told Beat, "but Francine stays here for Thanksgiving. That's my final answer."  
  
Beat folded her arms. "It's my final answer too."  
  
"You don't have to do this for me," Francine said to her, but she pretended not to hear.  
  
(To be continued...) 


	10. Treehouse of Terror

Pal lay behind the couch in the Read living room, his paws over his ears to block out the sound of Arthur and Sue Ellen practicing their jazz riffs. On the couch sat Mrs. Read and Maria Harris, chatting about the day's events.  
  
"They're getting better," Mrs. Harris remarked. "Do you ever worry that your son will become a famous jazz musician?"  
  
"Not really," said Mrs. Read. "Jazz musicians don't get much publicity. If he joins a boy band, then I'll start to worry."  
  
The doorbell rang, and Mrs. Read went to answer it. Francine stood at the door with the large case holding her drum kit, and behind her was Alan, toting his cello case. "Come in, kids."  
  
Francine rolled her drum kit case through the living room to where Arthur and Sue Ellen were playing, and started to set it up. Alan, in the meantime, set down his instrument and sat down on the couch with Mrs. Read and Mrs. Harris.  
  
"Alan, have you met Maria Harris?" asked Mrs. Read.  
  
"I'm Nadine's mother," said Mrs. Harris, extending her hand and wagging her tail slightly.  
  
Alan shook hands with her. "Nice to meet you. Now I know where Nadine got her tail from."  
  
"That was rude," said Mrs. Harris, smiling and swatting Alan with her tail.  
  
Alan took a deep breath and seemed to weigh his words carefully.  
  
"Mrs. Read, I've got a problem. My cousin Jason is in town, and he left school this morning. I've been looking for him all day."  
  
"What does he look like?" Mrs. Read asked.  
  
"He looks a lot like me, except he's part aardvark."  
  
Mrs. Harris' tail suddenly sprang up.  
  
"Jason?" she said to Alan. "Part bear, part aardvark? A kid fitting that description came into my store today."  
  
Alan's eyes went wide. "He did?"  
  
"He sold us a gold coin. Except it wasn't a standard-issue coin. It had his face on it."  
  
Alan rubbed his chin thoughtfully and anxiously.  
  
"I guess the kid must have his own country," Mrs. Harris went on. "The coin had the words REPUBLIC OF JASON on it. What's funnier, the year on the coin was 2032."  
  
Alan's jaw dropped. His eyes nearly burst out of their sockets.  
  
"What's wrong, Alan?" asked Mrs. Read, concerned.  
  
Alan composed himself. "What else did he say, Mrs. Harris?"  
  
"Hmm." Mrs. Harris thought for a second. "Oh, yeah. He said he was home- schooled. He also said he was a time traveler, and he came from a future time when gold is synthesized."  
  
A dreadful suspicion took root in Alan's mind. His face grew darker.  
  
"Another thing," Mrs. Harris continued. "He had a bandage on his head."  
  
"Abuse, you suppose?" Mrs. Read suggested.  
  
Mrs. Harris shook her head. "No, I'd recognize abuse."  
  
Mrs. Read looked at Alan, whose expression had morphed into a fearsome scowl. "Well, Alan? Are we talking about the same Jason?"  
  
Alan leaped to his feet. "Mrs. Read, can I use your phone?" he asked in a friendly manner.  
  
"Sure, go ahead."  
  
Hurrying to the phone, Alan dialed his own number. His mother answered.  
  
"Mom, has my cousin Jason come back yet?"  
  
"Jason?" said Mrs. Powers. "That boy who spent the night? He's not your cousin."  
  
"He is now," Alan told her. "Has he come back yet?"  
  
"I haven't seen him since this morning."  
  
"Thanks, Mom." Alan hung up the phone. When he turned around, he was surprised to find Francine standing in front of him.  
  
"Are you playing with us or not?" she asked.  
  
Alan reached down, picked up his cello case, and followed Francine toward the place where the kids were rehearsing.  
  
"By the way," said Francine as she walked, "what happened to that cousin of yours with the bandage on his forehead?"  
  
Alan glanced over at Mrs. Harris, hoping that she hadn't heard Francine's question, but apparently she had.  
  
The Sue E. Armstrong Quartet, consisting of Sue Ellen on saxophone, Arthur on piano, Francine on drums, and Alan on bass, practiced a few lively jazz numbers in preparation for Saturday night's concert at the Heifer.  
  
While they were playing a piece by Thelonius Monk, D.W. came running into the house. "Arthur, I need your help," she announced loudly.  
  
Arthur and the other kids stopped playing. "What's wrong?" Arthur asked his sister.  
  
"Nadine's in the treehouse, and she won't come down," D.W. explained.  
  
Sighing with frustration, Arthur rose from the piano bench and followed D.W. to the back yard. There he saw Nadine sitting in the doorway of the treehouse, seemingly petrified with fear.  
  
"Get her down, big brother," D.W. urged him.  
  
Thinking the task would be easy, Arthur scurried up the wooden rungs. Nadine pushed herself back with her arms as she saw the boy coming closer.  
  
Arthur climbed through the doorway and saw that Nadine was frightened almost to the point of tears. "Come on, Nadine," he said comfortingly.  
  
"No! No!" Nadine cried in fear.  
  
Arthur tried in vain to soothe the troubled girl. "Don't be afraid. I'm here. You won't get hurt as long as I'm here."  
  
"No!" Nadine exclaimed again.  
  
His patience wearing thin, Arthur lunged forward and grabbed Nadine around the waist, pulling her to his chest as she wailed and protested. With his right arm tightly wrapped around her, he started to carefully descend the ladder. Nadine waved her arms and kicked, screaming with terror.  
  
When Arthur was a fourth of the way down the ladder, Nadine pushed against the tree just as he let go of the rung with his left hand. Falling backwards, he tried to grab the rung again, but to no avail. With Nadine sinking her fingernails into his neck, he plummeted to the ground and landed on his back with a dull thud.  
  
Dazed and breathless, Arthur felt as if his very short life was flashing before his eyes. Nadine jumped off of his chest and ran toward the house, crying.  
  
Arthur saw what appeared to be an angel hovering above him, bearing a harp in one hand. As his vision became more focused he realized that it was Sue Ellen holding her saxophone.  
  
"You all right, Arthur?" she asked, extending her free hand.  
  
Groaning, Arthur slowly raised his arm and took Sue Ellen's hand. She raised him to his feet with a hefty pull. Initially unsure of his footing, Arthur soon started to walk toward the back door, where Francine and Alan were waiting for him.  
  
"Stupid Nadine," he grumbled. "Almost killed me."  
  
"You feeling okay?" Alan asked him. "That was quite a fall."  
  
"I'm fine," said Arthur sharply.  
  
"Fortunately he landed on the softest part of his body," Francine noted. "His head."  
  
Alan and Sue Ellen chuckled. "Ho, ho, ho," muttered Arthur.  
  
As he entered the living room he saw the tearful Nadine in the arms of her mother, with Mrs. Read sitting next to her and D.W. looking on.  
  
"She almost killed me," Arthur groused. "She's nothing but a big baby."  
  
"You could have asked me to get her down," said Mrs. Harris.  
  
"I suppose so," Arthur reflected. "But D.W. asked me to help, and my mom tells me I should help my little sister when she asks me to."  
  
"I'm sorry, Arthur," said D.W. meekly. "I keep forgetting that Nadine has a mom now."  
  
"I'm...sorry," Nadine choked out between sobs. "I'm really sorry, Arthur. I was...I was so afraid...it was so high..."  
  
"She's afraid of heights," said Mrs. Read.  
  
"No, she's not," said D.W. vehemently. "She flew the time tricycle all over the neighborhood."  
  
"Maybe that's what made her afraid of heights," Arthur suggested.  
  
"She keeps talking about a time tricycle," said Mrs. Harris. "And she has nightmares about some place called...some place with a weird name."  
  
"You must be talking about Spiritus Mundi," said Arthur. "It's a dimension where everything we imagine really exists. At least that's what Prunella says."  
  
"It was a scary place," said Nadine, now recovered from her fright. "Pickles was there, and all kinds of monsters who followed her."  
  
"Pickles was gonna take over the world," D.W. added, "but we stopped her."  
  
"I'm sure it was all a bad dream," said Mrs. Harris as she caressed Nadine's head.  
  
"It wasn't a dream," Nadine protested. "It was real. I think."  
  
"You've been watching too many evil Pomeranian movies," said Arthur cuttingly. "Now, if you don't mind, I need to practice some more."  
  
Arthur and his musical friends rehearsed for another half hour, and then Carla came to get Sue Ellen. Alan and Francine packed their instruments and headed for their respective homes.  
  
Alan walked into his house and set down his cello. He saw Jason and his parents sitting in the living room, talking. "There you are!" he exclaimed, glaring at Jason.  
  
Jason turned to face him. "I hope I didn't worry you. I had to take care of some things. I won't need to spend the night here."  
  
"You're welcome to stay here for as long as your parents are traveling," Mrs. Powers told Jason.  
  
"That could be another month, or more," Jason replied.  
  
Alan gestured toward his bedroom. "Jason, let's talk."  
  
Jason rose to follow him into the bedroom. Before closing the door, Alan stuck his head out and said to his parents, "If anybody asks, Jason is my cousin."  
  
Alan shut the bedroom door tightly to ensure privacy. Then he shot an angry look at Jason.  
  
"I know why you came back now. You want to live like a king with your synthesized gold from the future."  
  
Jason looked at Alan incredulously for a second, then started to laugh.  
  
"Live like a king? Don't be silly!" He pointed at his backpack, which lay on top of the dresser. "How much gold do you think I can fit in my pack? How much gold do you think I can carry?"  
  
"Not much," said Alan. "But maybe you brought a device with you that can turn other substances into gold."  
  
"A device like that would be bigger than I am," said Jason.  
  
Alan advanced toward the dresser. "I'd like to have a look inside your pack."  
  
"No!" Jason hurried over and put his hand between Alan and his backpack.  
  
Alan stepped back, eyeing Jason suspiciously.  
  
"There are things in my pack you shouldn't see," Jason told him. "Things having to do with the future."  
  
"Like more gold, I suppose."  
  
Jason sighed with exasperation. "Alan, I got that coin at an amusement park. They sell you twenty coins with your name and face on them for five dollars. I have more of them, but only enough to live on while I'm here."  
  
"And how long to you plan to be here?" Alan asked him.  
  
"Through Thanksgiving, at least. I had hoped to land here a few weeks later than I did, but the time tricycle isn't as reliable as it used to be." Jason gave the tricycle, which sat next to the dresser, a slight kick.  
  
Alan's expression grew calmer. "Where are you staying tonight?"  
  
"At the Elwood City Mairzydoat."  
  
"That's a nice hotel," said Alan accusingly.  
  
"Beats staying in a dive." Jason went toward the door to open it.  
  
Alan raised his hand. "Hold it. Just one more question."  
  
Jason stopped and turned.  
  
"I saw a vial of fluid in your pack when you opened it the first time," said Alan. "What is it for?"  
  
"Medicine," Jason replied.  
  
"For what?"  
  
Jason didn't answer, but opened the door to leave Alan's bedroom.  
  
----  
  
"I've been thinking," Sue Ellen said to Carla. "Maybe I'll be a jazz saxophonist instead of an archaeologist. I really like playing jazz." She patted her saxophone case.  
  
"I'm sure your parents will be proud of you, whatever you choose," Carla told her.  
  
She opened the door to the Armstrong house, and Sue Ellen followed her inside.  
  
Then they both gasped.  
  
A strange rat woman, clad in a floral dress, was sitting on the living room couch. She looked at them and smiled.  
  
"Your door was unlocked, so I let myself in."  
  
Sue Ellen had a feeling that she had seen this woman somewhere before...  
  
(To be continued...) 


	11. And All That Jazz

Carla slowly reached into her purse and wrapped her fingers around her pepper spray, which she had carried with her ever since her days living in Crown City.

The strange rat woman rose to her feet, still sporting a friendly smile. "I can only assume you left the door unlocked so that Nigel could come and go as he pleased," she said.

"Who are you?" Carla demanded. With her free hand, she pushed Sue Ellen closer to her side.

"Don't I look familiar?" said the woman. "Look carefully."

Carla narrowed her eyes and gazed into the stranger's face. It was only moments before she recognized something about the woman that she couldn't believe she had missed.

"You're one of Nigel's relatives," said Carla quietly. "A cousin, maybe." She relaxed her grip on the pepper spray.

"She's Nigel's twin!" Sue Ellen blurted out. "I remember now."

"Nigel doesn't have a twin," Carla insisted. "I've met his whole family, and they said nothing about a twin."

The woman stepped closer to Carla, holding out her arms as if to prove that she had no weapons.

"So Nigel didn't tell you about me. I can't say I'm surprised."

"Nigel will be here any minute now," said Carla, although she knew it wasn't necessarily so. "Then we'll find out who you really are."

The woman lowered her arms and looked at Carla seriously. "My name is Angela Ratburn, although I haven't gone by that name for a number of years. I've made many mistakes and foolish choices in my life, and they cost me the love of my family. But I feel the time is right to make a reconciliation. I thought it would be easier if I talked to you first, instead of Nigel. He'll be furious when he hears about the latest development. You see, I'm..."

Sue Ellen suddenly perked up her ears. "I hear him. He's coming!"

Terror spread over the rat woman's face. Without a word, she fled through the back door of the house and closed it quietly behind her.

"Good thinking," said Carla to Sue Ellen. "Are you sure that woman is Nigel's twin?"

"It's been almost a year," Sue Ellen replied, "but I'm pretty sure that's her."

Carla rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "She does look like Nigel. But why wouldn't he tell me about her?"

----

The following Saturday morning, Buster stood in one of the terminals of the Elwood International Airport, a small bag draped over his shoulder. His parents, Bitzi and Harry, sat on chairs nearby, talking about the progress of their move to Chicago. Above them on the wall hung a large painting of a marshland with several green-tailed grebes flying about.

On all sides of Buster stood his friends from school--Arthur, Francine, Alan, Beat, Sue Ellen, Binky, George, and Prunella.

"Are you sure you can get through the metal detector?" Francine asked him. "I mean, you're really a robot, right?"

Buster laughed. "Yeah, but I'm made of a futuristic nonmetallic substance. I shouldn't have any trouble."

"I've spent a lot of time in this airport," Sue Ellen remarked.

"So have I," said Buster. "I hope I'll get to spend a lot more time in it."

"I'm really gonna miss you, Buster," said George unhappily. "You always had the best jokes. And with you gone, I'll have to be the one who protects Elwood City from the aliens."

"I checked your horoscope on the way here," said Prunella. "It said today is a safe day to travel, and if you find a new romantic interest, go for it."

"Like that's gonna happen between here and Chicago," said Arthur, chuckling.

"It's possible," said Alan. "In theory, anyway."

Bitzi and Harry, holding their carry-on bags, walked up to Buster. "It's time to go," said Bitzi. "Say goodbye to your friends."

The misty-eyed Buster waved farewell to the other kids.

Beat turned to Francine. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Francine nodded. She and Beat leaned over and kissed Buster on his cheeks. The rabbit boy smiled and blushed.

Harry put a hand on his shoulder. He turned and followed his parents into the security area as his friends watched with tender feelings.

"He's gone, dang it," said the crestfallen Binky. "And I never got to clobber him."

----

A limousine pulled to the side of an unpaved street next to a grassy field. On the other end of the field, groves of trees marked the way to a nearby creek.

Muffy looked up and down the street; there were no other cars to be seen. She pulled a fifty-dollar bill from her wallet and handed it to Bailey, her chauffeur. "We were never here," she told him. Bailey smiled and nodded.

Muffy climbed out the limo, walked across the field, and disappeared into the trees. Bailey, who had watched her go, pulled a well-worn copy of Hugo's "Les Miserables" from his satchel and began to read.

Holding a small paper in front of her face, Muffy carefully followed the directions that Fern had given her. They eventually led her into a small clearing, where she was delighted to see Van Cooper, seated, as usual, in his motorized wheelchair.

She smiled at him. "Hi, Van. What was your excuse for getting out?"

Van smiled back. "I pretended to be really depressed because I didn't get to say goodbye to Buster. So my mom let me go out on my own for a while. How did you get out?"

"My good friend Ulysses covered for me." Muffy walked over to the side of Van's wheelchair and gestured toward his lap. "Could I..."

"Go ahead," said Van. "They won't break."

Muffy eased herself into Van's lap, draping her legs over the armrest of the wheelchair, and sighed contentedly. "I really like you, Van," she said dreamily. "I like you more than any other boy I've met. And I don't like boys."

"I like you too, Muffy," said Van.

The two gazed wordlessly into each other's eyes for a few seconds. Then Muffy broke the silence.

"Who's Pandarus?"

Van took a deep breath. "In the legend of Troilus and Cressida, Pandarus was Cressida's uncle, who arranged for the lovers to be alone."

"Just like Fern is doing now," Muffy remarked. "Are we lovers, Van?"

"No," said the duck boy. "We're fourth-graders."

Muffy sighed obliviously.

----

By reaching up as high as she could, Francine grasped the microphone and pulled it down to the level of her mouth. "Testing, testing. Is this thing on?"

Before her, more than a hundred patrons sat at small round tables, enjoying various kinds of drinks. The audience at the Heifer Club included the quartet members' parents and siblings (except for Sue Ellen's), as well as Nigel Ratburn, his fiancee Carla Fuente, his sister Rodentia, Bud Wald and his wife Claudia, the Haneys, and numerous Lakewood students, such as Binky, Beat, George, and Jenna. The spotlights at the other end of the club made Francine feel warm and a bit sweaty.

"Welcome, everybody," she spoke into the microphone once she was confident that it was working. "We're the Sue E. Armstrong Jazz Quartet, the latest supergroup to emerge from the hallowed halls of Lakewood Elementary."

The patrons applauded and cheered.

"On saxophone, the great Sue Ellen 'The Felon' Armstrong herself."

There were more cheers and applause as Sue Ellen stepped to the front of the stage, holding up her saxophone proudly.

"On piano, Arthur 'The Aardvark' Read."

Arthur, sitting on a piano bench, turned and waved at the enthusiastic audience.

"On bass, Alan 'The Brain' Powers."

Alan, sitting with his cello between his legs, pumped his fist at the audience.

When the applause had died down, Francine introduced the last member of the quartet. "And on drums, myself, Francine 'The Frenzy' Frensky, formerly of the rock group U Stink!"

The applause and cheers for Francine were the loudest of all, as many in the audience fondly remembered her third-grade attempt to start a rock band.

"Thank you, thank you very much," Francine announced. "We're happy to be here tonight."

"Knock our socks off, Arthur!" D.W. shouted from the table she shared with her parents and Kate.

Francine hurried to her seat behind the drum set, grabbed her sticks, and began to beat out a jazz rhythm. She was joined by Alan on the cello, then Arthur on the piano, and finally, Sue Ellen on the saxophone.

The audience tapped, hummed, and clapped along to the spirited music. "Man, that cat can really wail," Mr. Read remarked.

An hour or so went by, with the quartet playing one number after another as the patrons enjoyed the music and drinks (which were non-alcoholic, as it was Family Night at the Heifer).

During a blues piece by Gershwin, Francine noticed that Arthur was hitting some sour notes. When the piece ended, she looked over and saw that Arthur had covered his face with his hands. She went to him. "You okay, Arthur?"

Arthur looked up. "I'm just feeling a little weird. I'll be all right."

By the time the quartet had played two more numbers, Arthur appeared to have regained his musical footing.

A few pieces later, as the quartet was playing a composition by Jelly Roll Morton, Sue Ellen saw a familiar-looking woman enter through the door of the club. It was the rat woman who had visited them earlier in the week--the woman who claimed to be Angela Ratburn, Nigel's twin. Sue Ellen choked at the sight, but recovered quickly and continued her improvisation.

As she watched, Angela picked up a chair and seated herself at the table where Nigel, Carla, and Rodentia were enjoying the concert.

When Nigel and Rodentia saw her, they shot up out of their chairs. Nigel pointed an accusing finger at Angela and began to shout at her. Rodentia took every opportunity to interject her own protestations, while Carla witnessed the argument with surprise and shock. The patrons turned and watched them with curiosity.

The bitterness continued unabated for several minutes. The music being as loud as it was, Sue Ellen couldn't make out any of the angry words exchanged between Nigel, Rodentia, and Angela--except for one, which Nigel and Rodentia shouted at the top of their lungs:

"PREGNANT?"

The quartet members found it harder and harder to concentrate on their playing as the fight between the Ratburns gradually turned into a shouting match between Nigel and Carla. And then...

Sue Ellen removed her saxophone from her gaping mouth as the unthinkable unfolded before her eyes.

Carla pulled the diamond ring from her finger and dropped it at Nigel's feet...

(To be continued...)


	12. Arthur and Sue Ellen Sitting in a Tree

Setting down her saxophone, Sue Ellen raced into the audience to where Carla and Mr. Ratburn were glaring at each other. The music ceased and the club fell silent, except for the patrons' curious murmurings.  
  
Sue Ellen picked up the ring from the floor and held it up to Carla. "Put it back on!" she demanded, but Carla only stared blankly at her.  
  
Nigel plucked the ring out of Sue Ellen's fingers. "Stay out of this," he said firmly.  
  
"Let's go home," said Carla as she took the distraught girl by the hand.  
  
Her eyes filling with tears, Sue Ellen took no thought about her saxophone as Carla led her out of the club and toward the parking garage.  
  
"You have to marry Nigel!" she protested. "You just have to!"  
  
"I won't marry a man who treats his own sister that way," said Carla angrily. "Especially when she's pregnant."  
  
Tears rolled down Sue Ellen's face. Carla made no attempt to dry them.  
  
----  
  
"How's your head today?" Mrs. Read asked Arthur as he sat at the breakfast table, wolfing down his dry cereal.  
  
"It doesn't hurt or anything," Arthur replied, "but I still feel a little dizzy sometimes. And I...I don't know how to describe it, but...I feel like I'm looking at things differently."  
  
"A new perspective on life can be a helpful thing," said Mr. Read, who was preparing a roast for Sunday dinner.  
  
"I don't think that's what he means," said Mrs. Read. "Sometimes when I get a headache, it's like the world around me changes."  
  
"That's it, Mom," said Arthur with his mouth full of cereal. "That's what I'm talking about."  
  
"Now that your concert's over," his mother said, "I think you should rest today, like the doctor recommended."  
  
"What about church?" asked Arthur.  
  
"You always sleep in church anyway," said his father, who was adjusting the dials on the oven.  
  
"I wouldn't if something interesting would happen," Arthur retorted.  
  
"Yeah, it's booooring," complained D.W., who was sitting next to Arthur, playing with a piece of toast.  
  
Arthur and D.W. started to fantasize about sitting next to their parents in an utterly boring church meeting. Their eyelids were growing heavy as Reverend Fulsome delivered a trite, uninspired sermon from the pulpit.  
  
"It's a simple message, and it comes from the heart," spoke the reverend. "Believe in yourself, for that's the place to start."  
  
As D.W. started to drift off to sleep, she heard a sweet heavenly voice calling to her. She opened her eyes, looked up, and gasped in wonder at the sight. An angelic Mary Moo Cow was hovering above her, its little wings flapping furiously.  
  
"Mary Moo Cow?" cried D.W., an ecstatic smile on her face. "Are you my guardian angel?"  
  
"Yes, I am," gushed the Mary Moo Cow angel. "It's just like you've always dreamed it."  
  
The enraptured D.W. raised her hand toward the angel, who grasped it and lifted her up into the air. Soon the two were flying about the chapel, to the wonder of the other parishioners.  
  
Arthur, who had watched the entire affair, started to feel jealous. "Where's my guardian angel?" he asked grumpily.  
  
Looking up, he saw a shining white figure descending from the rafters, its expansive wings flapping slowly. He held his breath, anxious to know whose face was attached to the celestial visitor.  
  
The angel floated downward until it alighted on Arthur's knees. It looked like Sue Ellen...  
  
"Whoa!" Arthur shook his head aggressively.  
  
"What's wrong, Arthur?" D.W. asked him.  
  
Arthur sighed. "Even my fantasy sequences are getting weirder. Maybe I should see a doctor again."  
  
"There's not much else the doctor can do for you," said Mr. Read, "except give you a CAT scan."  
  
Arthur slipped into another fantasy in which he was lying, shirtless, on a medical table. Sue Ellen, dressed in a nurse's uniform, was examining every part of his head through a magnifying glass. "No contusions here," she muttered. "None here, either." She set down the magnifying glass. "Congratulations, Arthur. You've got a perfect gopher-shaped head."  
  
Arthur slapped himself on the cheek to end the fantasy. "That was weird," he said aloud.  
  
"Maybe you just need a day's worth of rest," Mrs. Read suggested.  
  
"The next time you have a weird fantasy, can I slap you?" asked D.W.  
  
The doorbell rang, "I'll get it," said Mr. Read as he raced out of the kitchen, still wearing his chef's hat and gloves.  
  
He opened the door, and Sue Ellen greeted him. "Is Arthur home?"  
  
"Arthur, Sue Ellen's here," Mr. Read called to the kitchen.  
  
Arthur jumped to his feet. "She's come for her harp...er, saxophone," he said, hurrying to the front door.  
  
To his surprise, Sue Ellen looked quite miserable, as if she had cried herself to sleep, then cried herself awake again.  
  
"It's right here," said Arthur, gesturing toward the instrument case which he had taken home from the club and placed next to the phone.  
  
"I'll get it later," said Sue Ellen weakly. "Can we talk?"  
  
"Uh...sure." Arthur turned and headed for the living room.  
  
"In your room, Arthur."  
  
A little surprised, Arthur led Sue Ellen up the stairway and into his bedroom. They sat down on his bed together.  
  
The girl spoke dejectedly. "I didn't know who else I could talk to. You've always been so nice to me."  
  
"What's the problem?" asked Arthur in a semi-oblivious tone of voice.  
  
"You remember when I was mad at Nigel for talking my parents into leaving me here," Sue Ellen began. "I was wrong about him. He's a good man. He's perfect for Carla. But now she's throwing away her only chance for happiness, just because Nigel had a fight with his sister."  
  
Arthur's tone became more somber. "Yeah, I remember all that."  
  
"I tried talking to Carla, but it's no use. She won't go back to him."  
  
"Is there anything I can do?" asked Arthur helpfully.  
  
"Just listen to me." Sue Ellen appeared to be on the brink of tears.  
  
"I've got a shoulder you can cry on," said Arthur.  
  
Sue Ellen wrapped her arms around Arthur's neck, put her face on his shoulder, and started to sob. Arthur's face was almost completely obscured by her hair puff.  
  
"I can't see a thing," said Arthur in a muffled voice, "and there's a hair in my mouth."  
  
"I'm sorry," said Sue Ellen between sobs.  
  
"No, I'm enjoying it."  
  
Sue Ellen sobbed for another half minute or so, and then Arthur happened upon an idea. "You know," he said, his voice still muffled by the hair in front of his face, "we could try to make peace between Mr. Ratburn and his sister."  
  
"That would be impossible," said Sue Ellen, removing her face from Arthur's shoulder. "Even for my dad."  
  
"Impossible? Why?"  
  
The girl pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her tears. "I don't trust Nigel's sister, Arthur. I've got a bad feeling about her."  
  
"A bad feeling?" Arthur repeated, curious.  
  
"Carla thinks Nigel should help her because she's broke and pregnant. But what if she's only trying to take advantage of her family? What if all this has happened before?"  
  
"I hadn't thought of that."  
  
"But Carla doesn't understand that. She says that in Costa Rica, family members stick up for each other, no matter what."  
  
"Is that true?" asked Arthur. "You lived there, right?"  
  
"I don't know. I was really young then. Like, seven."  
  
"I can try talking to Carla," Arthur offered. "I don't know what good I'll be. I'm out of my league when it comes to grownups."  
  
Sue Ellen smiled. "You're such a nice boy, Arthur."  
  
"Thanks." Arthur started to smile as well. "You're nice too."  
  
"Is something wrong?"  
  
Arthur, taken aback by the question, looked at Sue Ellen oddly.  
  
"You usually get nervous when I talk to you like this," she added.  
  
"Oh, yeah." Arthur himself wondered why he was taking Sue Ellen's sweet talk so easily. "Must've been the fall from the tree. I've been feeling weird since then."  
  
"Or maybe it's something else." Sue Ellen's face started to light up. "Something you don't want to admit."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Without warning, Sue Ellen leaned over and kissed Arthur on the cheek. As she withdrew her face, the boy rubbed his cheek and smiled bashfully.  
  
"That didn't scare you?" she asked.  
  
"Uh...no, it didn't." Arthur looked slightly confused. "But it should have. I don't get it."  
  
Then the emboldened Sue Ellen grabbed Arthur firmly by the shoulders, pulled him forward, and kissed him squarely on the lips.  
  
They remained liplocked for about ten seconds. Arthur's expression was a mixture of confusion and enjoyment.  
  
Finally she released him. "How about that? Did that scare you?"  
  
"Your lips are fuzzy," said the dazed-looking Arthur. "Other than that, no."  
  
Sue Ellen's courage mounted. "I lied to you about what I wrote in my diary. It wasn't a silly fantasy. I really do love you, Arthur."  
  
Arthur opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He opened it again, but there was no sound. "You look like a fish," Sue Ellen told him, smiling.  
  
It was clear to Arthur that conversation was futile. He put his hands forward and pulled Sue Ellen toward him until their lips touched.  
  
They kissed for several seconds, and then Arthur heard a familiar gasp of surprise coming from the doorway. He yanked himself out of Sue Ellen's arms. "D.W.!" he cried in horror and outrage.  
  
He barely caught a glimpse of his little sister, who scurried down the stairway shouting, "Mom! Dad! Kate! Pal!"  
  
Sue Ellen sighed. "So much for keeping this a secret." Then she kissed Arthur again.  
  
(To be continued...) 


	13. Sic Transit Gloria Muffy

"Women," Mr. Ratburn grumbled. "They all want to marry a perfect man from a perfect family that gets along perfectly." 

"I take it you want to return those rings," said Maria Harris, who stood behind the counter in Stephanie's Jewelry and Coins.

Mr. Ratburn placed the two ring cases he was holding on the counter in front of her. She opened the cases and started to inspect the rings for damage. As she did so, she asked, "Black sheep in the family?"

"You have no idea." Mr. Ratburn sighed. "We can't turn our backs on her for a minute."

"Every family's got a bad seed," Mrs. Harris observed. "I married one. Thank goodness it didn't last long."

"Now she's come crawling to us for help again," Mr. Ratburn continued. "It's the same old story. We give her a little money to get her back on her feet, and the next thing we know, she's blown it all on some crooked scheme."

Mrs. Harris placed the rings back in their cases. "Well, the solution is obvious," she advised him. "Don't give her what she asks for."

"That's what I tried to tell Carla," said the exasperated rat. "But, no! She thinks families should stick up for each other."

"Families should stick up for each other to a point," said Mrs. Harris, who was writing out a check. "Beyond that, they become crime families."

"I couldn't have put it better myself," said Mr. Ratburn, grinning with amusement.

Mrs. Harris handed him the check, then leaned over the counter and smiled at him. "So," she asked, "now that you're unattached again, what are your plans?"

Mr. Ratburn started to grow uneasy. Her wistful smile and her soulful, squirrelly eyes seemed to communicate an unmistakable message to him. He felt an urge to leave quickly, but then something about her face reminded him of a pleasant childhood memory. Maybe, just maybe, he thought, the affection and trust he had sought for so long could be found in this pair of arms...

...then suddenly, the back of her skirt lifted and her tail started to wag.

Mr. Ratburn's face became slightly pallid. "You have a tail," he pointed out.

"Yes," said Mrs. Harris in a sultry voice. "Rightfully, we should all have tails."

"I'll...see you later." Mr. Ratburn hurried from the store, as if afraid that he would sprout a tail if he remained any longer.

----

Muffy, wearing a dress and cap straight out of the Italian Renaissance, stood in the balcony of her luxury tower in the woods surrounding Verona. "Oh, Romeo, Romeo!" she called out sweetly. "Wherefore art thou, Romeo?"

Moments later Van, clad in a doublet and hose, rolled out of the forest in a crude wooden wheelchair. Raising his hand to the heavens, he cried, "But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun."

As Van pushed his wheelchair to the tower entrance, he saw that reaching Muffy's balcony might present difficulties. "A little help here," he said to her.

Muffy quickly pushed a button on the panel in front of her, and the tower began to sink into the earth, growing shorter and shorter until the balcony was even with the ground. Van reached out and took Muffy by the hand.

"Juliet, will you...will you hang out with me?" he asked earnestly.

"Yes, Romeo!" Muffy cried joyfully. "Yes, I will! But we must hang out in secret, or our parents will discover us."

"Leave that to me," came a voice from the woods. Out walked Mr. Pryce-Jones, dressed in ministerial robes.

"Friar Lawrence?" cried Muffy and Van in surprise.

"I can lead you to a place where your parents will never find you," said the friar. "But first, you must answer this question: Who ruled the Italian city of Florence from 1469 to 1492?"

Muffy raised her hand. "I know this one!" she exclaimed proudly. She was back in her classroom at Uppity Downs Academy, where Mr. Pryce-Jones was drilling the students on the history of the Italian Renaissance.

The teacher gestured at her. "Yes, Muffy?"

"Francesca da Rimini," she proclaimed triumphantly.

The other kids burst out laughing. It was the first time Muffy had seen them express any mirth at all, whether in or out of class.

Mr. Pryce-Jones waved his hand, and the class fell dead silent. "Good guess, Muffy. Now, would anyone else like to answer that question?"

A parrot boy's hand shot up near the front of the class. "Yes, Tristan?"

"It was Lorenzo de Medici, Mr. Pryce-Jones, sir," squawked the parrot boy.

"That's correct," said the teacher.

As Muffy left the classroom at the end of the period, several of the other students ribbed her about her incorrect response.

"That was really good, Muffy," said Mavis, a red-haired, bespectacled hamster girl. "I haven't laughed so hard in a long time."

"I think we should make you our honorary class clown," said Connor, a horse boy. "That would spice things up a bit."

"You're making fun of me," said Muffy, folding her arms.

"No, we're not," said Neville, a black-haired rabbit boy. "We're far too intelligent and sophisticated to torment someone for the sake of mere pleasure."

"This is making fun of you." Mavis spoke to Muffy in an exaggerated, mocking voice. "Hey, Francesca! Too hot in here for you? Could you use a little breeze?"

Connor and Neville laughed uproariously. "I don't get it," said Muffy.

"You obviously didn't read Dante's Inferno in third grade," Connor remarked.

"We did," said Neville. "In the original Latin, too."

Connor and Neville walked away, laughing. Mavis put a comforting hand on Muffy's shoulder. "Don't worry, Muffy. You'll catch up."

"But how?" Muffy asked dejectedly. "You're all light years ahead of me!"

"Mr. Pryce-Jones has his methods," said Mavis, who then turned and followed the boys.

Left standing alone, Muffy gloomily fantasized about what Mr. Pryce-Jones' "methods" might involve.

She saw herself at the end of the school day, sitting at her desk while the other students were leaving. Mr. Pryce-Jones, now dressed up like a devil with horns and a forked tail, approached her menacingly.

"You've fallen seriously behind in Latin and music," he growled in an earth- trembling voice. "I have no choice but to...get_remedial_ on you! Muwahahahaha!"

Then Muffy saw herself strapped to a chair, her eyelids held open by a set of suspended wires. As the "Ode to Joy" chorus of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony played in the background, the Latin text of Dante's Inferno scrolled slowly by on a large video screen in front of her. Mr. Pryce-Jones stood nearby, still laughing wickedly.

Muffy shook her head sadly. "I need help," she muttered.

----

At the same time that Muffy was being miserable in private school, D.W. and Nadine were enjoying themselves in kindergarten with their friends Emily, Vicita, Dallin Cooper, and the Tibble boys.

Their teacher, Miss Cosma, returned from the washroom to monitor the progress of their watercolor paintings. "Oh, those paintings look wonderful!" she gushed, speaking in a Romanian accent.

"Thank you, Miss Cosma," said the kids in unison, as they had been trained to do.

The teacher looked at Vicita's painting, which resembled a large brown blur with five or six legs. "What's this, Vicita?" she asked.

"It's my dog, Amigo," Vicita replied.

Miss Cosma examined Dallin's painting next. The duck boy had drawn a remarkably accurate and detailed picture of a young chipmunk woman, and then carefully filled in the pencil lines with colors.

"Who's that, Dallin?" asked the teacher, although she had little trouble recognizing the subject.

"It's you, Miss Cosma," said Dallin proudly.

"That's very good," said Miss Cosma, blushing a little. "I had no idea you were so autistic...er, artistic."

She next looked at Tommy and Timmy's paintings. "How nice," she commented. "You painted yourselves."

"No, we didn't," said Timmy. "I painted Tommy, and he painted me."

"I can't paint myself if I can't look at myself, duh," said Tommy.

Miss Cosma moved on to look at Emily's painting. "It's my French nanny," the girl informed her.

Finally, she crouched behind D.W. and Nadine to take a look at their works.

"This is my best friend, Nadine," said D.W., holding up her painting. "She was my best friend when she was imaginary. Now she's real, and she's still my best friend."

Nadine held up her picture, a mass of dark colors punctuated with frightening humanoid shapes, and spoke somberly.

"This is a picture of Spiritus Mundi. It's a very evil place, full of monsters and bad people. A blind girl was trapped there, and I went in and saved her."

"That's...er...very nice, Nadine," said Miss Cosma. "You have a very vivid imagination."

Then she noticed that tears were starting to fall on Nadine's picture, smearing the paint. Nadine looked up at her, weeping.

"I have bad dreams about it every night," the girl sobbed. "They won't go away!"

D.W. and Miss Cosma embraced Nadine, trying to comfort her.

(To be continued...)


	14. I Once Was Blind

Arthur and Sue Ellen sat on a bench near the playground at Lakewood Elementary, chatting happily. Several of their classmates--Francine, Binky, Beat, Fern, and Van, to be precise--approached them cautiously, trying hard not to smirk.  
  
Beat was the first to address them. "There's a nasty rumour going around that you two are...how do Americans say it...an item."  
  
"We know it can't possibly be true," said Francine.  
  
"We'd greatly appreciate it if you would disabuse our minds of this slander once and for all," said Van pompously.  
  
"Now who would have started a rumor like that?" Sue Ellen asked Arthur.  
  
Arthur pretended to think deeply. "Uh...could it be...D.W.?"  
  
"So," Fern asked eagerly, "is it a rumor, or is it the truth?"  
  
Rather than answer, Arthur and Sue Ellen leaned over and kissed each other on the lips.  
  
"Eww!" The other kids grimaced and turned their faces, unable to bear such a display of affection.  
  
Arthur and Sue Ellen kissed for several seconds, then stopped and noticed that their friends were looking away from them.  
  
"Guys, we're done," said Arthur. The other kids turned to face him again.  
  
"Oh, man, that was gross," said Binky, clutching his stomach. "Even my night light won't keep me from having nightmares about that."  
  
"It's just wrong to glamourize it on TV the way they do," Beat remarked.  
  
"How does it taste?" asked Van.  
  
"Just like chicken," Sue Ellen replied.  
  
"Eww!" said the other kids again. They began to slowly walk away, except for Francine.  
  
"Hey, Sue Ellen," she asked hesitantly, "do you...feel anything when you do that?"  
  
"Yeah, I do," Sue Ellen answered. "It's like when I first moved to Costa Rica and got diarrhea really bad, only without the diarrhea."  
  
Arthur shot her a disgusted look, and then started to laugh.  
  
Francine turned and shuffled away from them, looking nauseous. "I've got a date with my reflection in the toilet," she muttered.  
  
A short time later, Arthur entered the boy's room and saw George drying his hands. After throwing his paper towel in the dispenser, the moose boy grabbed Arthur by the arm and dragged him into the far corner of the room.  
  
"What is it, George?" Arthur asked.  
  
"Shh!" George spoke in a suspicious whisper. "She mustn't hear us."  
  
"Who?" Arthur whispered back.  
  
"The alien," said George ominously. "Doesn't it seem strange to you that she won you over so easily? It's alien mind control, I'm sure of it."  
  
In George's fantasy, Arthur, dressed in a Starfleet-like uniform, materialized on an alien world covered with purple boulders. He opened his tricorder, waved it around for several seconds, examined the output, and closed it again. Then he pulled a cell phone from his belt and started to speak into it.  
  
"Arthur to Secondprize. According to my readings, there's no intelligent life on this planet. Plus it's outside of my calling plan, so the roaming charges are out of this world. So beam me up and let's get the..."  
  
He was interrupted when a beautiful, green-skinned alien girl, who looked vaguely like Sue Ellen, appeared from behind a purple boulder.  
  
"Greetings, Captain Arthur of the starship Secondprize," she said seductively.  
  
"How did you know my name?" asked Arthur. Then he looked down and saw a label stuck to his shirt, upon which were written the words, HELLO, MY NAME IS CAPTAIN ARTHUR OF THE STARSHIP SECONDPRIZE. He quickly tore off the label, muttering, "Darn, I always forget."  
  
The alien girl drew closer, holding out her arms and smiling. "It's been so long since men have visited my planet," she gushed.  
  
"Are you real, or are you an illusion?" asked Captain Arthur. "Not that I prefer one over the other."  
  
The alien girl's pupils turned into swirling, hypnotic spirals.  
  
So did Captain Arthur's. "Are you trying to hypnotize me, or is it the other way around?" he asked.  
  
George's fantasy ended.  
  
"Sue Ellen isn't an alien," Arthur told him. "I thought we'd all agreed on that."  
  
"It takes a trained eye to tell who's an alien and who's not," said George, gazing piercingly into Arthur's eyes. "Buster taught me everything he knows. Now that he's gone, the aliens think it's safe. They've got another think coming."  
  
"Wonderful." Arthur rolled his eyes.  
  
"Whatever you do, don't kiss her," George warned him. "Unless you want baby aliens growing in your stomach."  
  
"Too late," said Arthur.  
  
George started to back away nervously. "Drink a glass of milk and contact a poison control center immediately," he raved. "Do not induce vomiting." With that, he hurried out of the boy's washroom.  
  
----  
  
Later that day, Prunella and Marina were strolling through the mall. Marina, as usual, was tapping with her cane as she went along.  
  
"I called Mrs. Simon yesterday," said Prunella. "She said the Braille version of her new book won't be ready for two more weeks."  
  
"Somehow I think that may not be a problem," said Marina.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Marina stopped and handed Prunella her cane. "I want to show you something, and you have to promise not to tell anyone."  
  
"Okay," said Prunella, raising her right hand. "I promise."  
  
Then Marina started to walk forward again, without her cane.  
  
Prunella gasped. "What are you doing?"  
  
Marina didn't respond, but walked straight toward an empty bench.  
  
Prunella put her hands over her mouth, sure that Marina would trip, fall, and possibly hurt herself...  
  
...but the blind girl walked around the bench instead.  
  
After that, to Prunella's amazement, Marina walked between two waste baskets without touching either one.  
  
Prunella ran to her. "How did you do that?" she asked, wide-eyed. "Are you getting your sight back?"  
  
Marina stopped. "No, I'm not." She turned, looked directly into Prunella's eyes, and spoke in hushed tones. "Ever since I escaped from Spiritus Mundi, I've been able to...sense things. Without seeing them."  
  
Prunella looked at her incredulously.  
  
"I know you don't believe me," said Marina. "I can hardly believe it myself. But it's real...and it's getting stronger."  
  
To demonstrate, she walked into a nearby bookstore, followed by the speechless Prunella. Pulling a random book from the display, she read the title aloud: "Love in the Time of Chickenpox."  
  
Prunella was astounded. "You...you can read print?"  
  
"Not very well," said Marina, replacing the book exactly where she had found it. "I haven't read print since second grade, when I went blind."  
  
Prunella thought for a moment. "Wait. You say you started...sensing things right after Spiritus Mundi?"  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
"I've got a crazy idea," said Prunella. "You know how astronauts and deep-sea divers sometimes have hallucinations or other weird experiences because the human brain wasn't made to live in those places? Maybe going into another dimension affects your brain too."  
  
"I didn't think of that," said Marina thoughtfully.  
  
"That might also explain Nadine's nightmares and panic attacks," Prunella theorized. "Do your parents know about this?"  
  
"I haven't told them," said Marina. "They don't notice anything out of the ordinary, because I know where everything is in my house."  
  
"So what else can you..." Prunella began.  
  
Marina raised a hand to stop her. "Francine's coming," she said quickly.  
  
Prunella glanced around the bookstore, but saw no sign of Francine.  
  
About five seconds later, to Prunella's surprise, Francine and Beat walked into the store, followed closely behind by Beat's mother.  
  
"Oh, look, Prunella's already here," said Francine, pointing.  
  
"Hi, Prunella," said Beat. "Had any spectral visitations lately?"  
  
"Uh...h-hi," Prunella stammered.  
  
Beat and her mother walked past Prunella and Marina, while Francine remained behind to chat. "I'm looking forward to seeing you in The Sound of Music tonight," she said to Prunella. "I heard you were really good on Saturday."  
  
"Uh, yeah, I was." Prunella shot a sideways glance at Marina. "So, what brings you here, Francine?"  
  
"I'm here for the book signing," Francine replied. "I thought you knew that."  
  
"Oh, right, of course."  
  
At the front of the bookstore, two employees had set up a table and chair. Another employee placed a stack of books on the table, along with a placard on which were printed the words, AUTHOR SIGNING, 4-5 PM. "BAD ZOMBIE! NO BRAIN!" THE SEQUEL TO "BAD DRAGON! NO DAMSEL!" BY PENELOPE SIMON.  
  
Prunella handed Marina's cane to her, and pulled her aside so that Francine couldn't hear. "How did you know Francine was coming?" she asked in a whisper. "I couldn't see her anywhere."  
  
"That's something else I wanted to tell you," said Marina fearfully. "I...I think I'm starting to hear people's thoughts."  
  
(To be continued...) 


	15. I Dreamed of Africa

Arthur and Sue Ellen sat on the couch in the Read living room, holding hands and watching the adventures of Laura Cleft, Crypt Robber.  
  
"Last time, on Laura Cleft," recounted the announcer, "the evil Lord Jerkwad tricked the superstitious natives of Guba Guba into worshipping him as a god."  
  
On the screen, a sinister-looking Englishman wearing an archaeological outfit was flashing a remote control at a group of aborigines, who gazed at the blinking red light in reverent awe.  
  
"When Laura arrived in Guba Guba in search of the last missing piece of the Mystic Medallion, she was immediately captured," the announcer continued.  
  
Bound hand and foot, Laura Cleft was fastened to a stone table by screeching, frenzied natives. One of them, apparently their priest, wore a large feathery headdress and clutched a large dagger.  
  
"As the natives prepared to sacrifice Laura to their idol, Lord Jerkwad fitted the final piece into the Mystic Medallion..."  
  
The screen showed a golden, glowing medallion in the hands of the villanous Englishman, who laughed wickedly.  
  
"...an ancient artifact with the power to release the long-imprisoned Malefacto, the most evil being in the universe!"  
  
"This is so exciting!" exclaimed Arthur.  
  
"I'm so glad you think so," said Sue Ellen, leaning her head on his shoulder.  
  
On the TV screen, Lord Jerkwad inserted the Mystic Medallion into a carving in the cave wall. A rumbling sound was heard, distracting the natives and allowing Laura Cleft to rub the ropes binding her hands against a nearby sharp rock.  
  
The stone wall of the cave rose up in front of Lord Jerkwad, revealing a fiery cavern. Jerkwad fell to his knees and raised his arms in a gesture of humility. "Oh, great one!" he cried, raising his eyes to the top of the cavern. "Make me ruler of Earth, and I will serve under thy hand!"  
  
But all he saw was smouldering rocks. Then he lowered his eyes. He lowered them some more. Standing before him was what appeared to be a five-year-old girl wearing a jumper.  
  
"Hey, that looks like D.W.," Arthur commented.  
  
On the screen, Lord Jerkwad slowly lowered his arms, surprised to see a little girl instead of a horrific demon. "You're...Malefacto?" he said incredulously.  
  
"Yes, I am," said the little girl with an evil grin. "Grovel before me, mortal."  
  
Instead of groveling, Jerkwad rose to his feet and looked down at Malefacto with disdain. Laura, now free from her bonds, walked over to this side.  
  
The little girl started to pout. "You're not groveling! Waaaaah!" She jumped up and down angrily, clenching her fists.  
  
"That's D.W., all right," said Arthur. Sue Ellen giggled.  
  
"I'll destroy you all for your impertinence!" threatened Malefacto, tears seeping from her eyes. "I'll reduce your planet to a heap of rubble! Stupid mortals! Stupidstupidstupidstupidstupid..."  
  
Laura and Jerkwad looked at each other, both equally disappointed. The image on the TV screen turned into a Sarah Soda commercial.  
  
Before Arthur or Sue Ellen could utter a word, D.W. hurried into the living room, clutching a sheet of paper. "Look what I made you, Arthur," she said excitedly.  
  
Arthur took the paper from her hand. On it she had made a crayon drawing of Arthur and Sue Ellen kissing, surrounded by hearts and flowers.  
  
"Oh, that's so sweet!" Sue Ellen gushed.  
  
"I like it," said Arthur. "That's really good, D.W."  
  
"Thanks, big brother," said D.W., and then she scurried off to play.  
  
"You know," said Arthur to Sue Ellen, "that girl on the show isn't like D.W. at all."  
  
Sue Ellen laid D.W.'s drawing on the arm of the couch. "This would be a good time to ask your parents something," she said.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Well, Nigel's not coming with Carla and me to Botswana anymore, so we have an extra plane ticket..."  
  
"You mean..." Arthur's face lit up.  
  
In the kitchen, Mrs. Read was placing silverware in the dishwasher while Mr. Read was preparing a batch of cupcakes. Arthur and Sue Ellen hurried into the room, looking excited.  
  
"Mom, Dad, can I go to Africa with Sue Ellen and Carla?" Arthur asked loudly.  
  
Mr. Read nearly dropped his cupcake pan.  
  
"Africa?" cried Arthur's parents in unison.  
  
"You mean...the Land Down Under?" said Mr. Read.  
  
"That's Australia," Sue Ellen corrected him.  
  
"When?" asked Mrs. Read.  
  
"The Thanksgiving holiday," Arthur replied.  
  
Mrs. Read rose to her feet and looked at her husband.  
  
"Well?" said Arthur impatiently.  
  
Mrs. Read turned and faced Arthur. "We'll have to discuss this."  
  
At that moment D.W. raced into the kitchen. "Can I go to Africa, too?" she asked.  
  
"You're too young," Mr. Read told her.  
  
"No, I'm not," said D.W. stubbornly. "When Sue Ellen was my age, she got to go everywhere."  
  
"That's different," said Mrs. Read. "She was with her parents."  
  
"But I wanna go to Africa," D.W. insisted. "I wanna see the elephants, and the giraffes, and the tigers, and the kangaroos."  
  
"Kangaroos are from Australia," Sue Ellen corrected her.  
  
"Oh, yeah," said D.W. "When I come back from Africa, can I go to Australia and see the kangaroos?"  
  
"You saw all those animals when you went to the zoo," said Mr. Read to D.W.  
  
"You're not going to Africa," said Mrs. Read firmly. "As for Arthur, we'll talk about it later."  
  
"Please say yes, Mrs. Read," Sue Ellen urged her. "Don't make me travel to the Dark Continent without the boy I love."  
  
"I said, we'll talk about it later," said Mrs. Read as she pulled a box of dishwasher detergent from the cupboard. "Now go watch your show."  
  
Arthur, Sue Ellen, and D.W. slowly filed out of the kitchen.  
  
Mr. Read continued to pour batter into the cupcake pan. "It's a crazy idea," he remarked. "He'll be halfway over the Atlantic Ocean and he'll start crying to come home."  
  
"Carla's a very competent nanny," Mrs. Read noted. "Arthur would be in good hands. Plus he'd be out of ours for the whole holiday."  
  
Mr. Read smiled. "Now you're talking."  
  
On the TV screen, Laura frantically pored over a sophisticated control panel, looking for a means to disarm a doomsday bomb before it could detonate and destroy the world. With five seconds remaining on the clock, she punched a button labeled CLIFFHANGER. The words TO BE CONTINUED appeared on the screen.  
  
"Another cliffhanger," said Arthur. "All the episodes on this show are cliffhangers."  
  
"Even the Christmas episode," said Sue Ellen.  
  
The two snuggled wordlessly for a few happy moments. Then Arthur spoke.  
  
"You know, if Carla cares so much about Ratburn's sister, she ought to do something to help her."  
  
"She did," Sue Ellen replied. "We both did."  
  
"What?" asked Arthur curiously.  
  
"Well, Carla's not really responsible for Angela, since she broke up with Nigel. But we put our heads together, and we thought of somebody who might take Angela in. Somebody who might be sympathetic."  
  
"Who?"  
  
----  
  
Muffy walked slowly down the drab hallway of the apartment building. Arriving at a door with the number 36 on it, she reached for the doorbell, then hesitated. "A Crosswire shouldn't have to resort to such desperate measures," she said to herself. "I guess I'm just not fit to be a Crosswire."  
  
She finally forced herself to ring the doorbell. "Come in," she heard a woman's voice say from within.  
  
Opening the door, Muffy glanced around the lonely apartment. The countertops were clean and bare, the carpet uncluttered, the walls lined with movie posters. In a recliner at the back of the living room sat a thirty-something polar bear woman with a book in her lap. She was Jean Stiles, former aspiring Hollywood starlet, fourth-grade teacher, and rehab patient.  
  
"Muffy!" Mrs. Stiles' face brightened when she saw her one-time student.  
  
"Hi, Mrs. Stiles," said Muffy in a dreary voice, as if she was less than pleased about being in the woman's presence.  
  
Leaping from her chair, Mrs. Stiles hurried across the living room and crouched on her knees in front of Muffy. "I'm so happy to see you," she said sweetly. "I thought you'd never come back after you learned the truth about me."  
  
"So did I," said Muffy. "But times have changed. I'm ashamed to say it, but...I need your help."  
  
Rising to her feet, Mrs. Stiles put an arm around Muffy's shoulders and led her to the couch, where they both sat down. "I'd be glad to help you, Muffy," she said kindly.  
  
The door to the bedroom was open, and Muffy noticed a large suitcase lying open on the bedroom floor, with various articles of women's clothing hanging out of it. "Whose suitcase is that?" she asked.  
  
"Oh, that belongs to my new roommate," Mrs. Stiles replied.  
  
Before Muffy had a chance to ask another question, the bathroom door opened and a rat woman, dressed in a green robe, emerged. Her hair was wet and tangled, and she was applying a brush to it.  
  
Muffy gasped and pointed at the woman. "You're...you're..."  
  
"Oh, it's the Crosswire brat," the rat woman muttered.  
  
"Pardon the terrible pun, Angela," said Mrs. Stiles, "but you look like a drowned rat."  
  
"Angela!" Muffy recognized the name with unease. "Mr. Ratburn's twin sister!"  
  
"My new roommate," Mrs. Stiles added.  
  
Muffy turned to her with a look of indignation. "You can't be serious! Don't you know what kind of woman she is? If half of what Mr. Ratburn says about her is true..."  
  
Mrs. Stiles smiled knowingly. "Well, now, Muffy, everything they say about me is true, and that didn't stop you from coming to visit me."  
  
Angela crossed the room and extended a hand toward Muffy, who backed away with disgust. "Don't worry, Muffy," said Mrs. Stiles. "She doesn't carry plague."  
  
"When I called you a brat, I meant it in the best possible way," said Angela.  
  
Reluctantly, Muffy put out her hand and shook Angela's.  
  
----  
  
"No way," said Arthur unbelievingly.  
  
"Yes way," Sue Ellen responded. "They both have checkered pasts. They'll get along fine."  
  
Their conversation was interrupted when Arthur's parents came into the living room, sporting friendly smiles. Arthur and Sue Ellen looked at them hopefully, realizing what this might portend.  
  
"We talked it over, Arthur," said Mrs. Read.  
  
"If you don't mind missing Thanksgiving with us..." Mr. Read began.  
  
"...and if your head gets better by then..." Mrs. Read added.  
  
"...then you can go to Africa," Mr. Read concluded.  
  
Smiling and squealing with delight, Arthur and Sue Ellen exchanged high-fives and then embraced each other.  
  
"But you have to promise, no hanky-panky while you're there," said Mrs. Read.  
  
"Sure, Mom," said Arthur, his voice muffled by Sue Ellen's hair puff. "What's hanky-panky?"  
  
"Well, you know," said Mrs. Read hesitantly, "the birds and the bees, and all that."  
  
Arthur pulled away from Sue Ellen. "Mom, it's called sex."  
  
Mrs. Read went pale with shock. Sue Ellen giggled. Mr. Read glanced around the house as if to make sure that D.W. hadn't been listening.  
  
That was when he noticed something missing. "Where's D.W.?" he asked.  
  
D.W. was standing on her tiptoes, straining to reach the doorbell at the Powers residence. After she finally managed to ring it, the door was opened by Alan.  
  
"D.W.?" said the surprised boy. "What are you doing here by yourself?"  
  
"Hi, Alan," said D.W., smiling and holding her hands behind her back. "I just wanted to ask you a question, since you're such a smart boy, and so nice, too."  
  
"Uh...come in." Alan allowed D.W. to enter. As the girl wandered about the house, she continued to smile seductively at Alan.  
  
"Alan, have you ever been to Africa?" she asked him.  
  
"No," replied Alan, looking a bit taken aback at the question.  
  
"What about Australia?"  
  
"No. I haven't been to any other countries. Except for Canada once."  
  
"Arthur's going to Africa with Sue Ellen," said D.W.  
  
"Really?" Alan's eyes widened with interest.  
  
D.W. climbed onto a chair and stood on it, still facing Alan. "That's because she's his giiiirlfriend," she said, drawing out the last word until she ran out of breath.  
  
Alan walked over to the chair that D.W. was standing on, and found that her eyes were now even with his.  
  
"Your ancestors came from Africa, right?" asked D.W., sounding as if she was impressed with her own knowledge.  
  
"Yeah," said Alan, "but what's that got to..."  
  
"So some day you'll go back to Africa to visit your ancestors, right?"  
  
Alan rubbed his chin, puzzled.  
  
D.W. placed her hands on Alan's shoulders and leaned forward. "When you go to Africa, can I go with you? Can I be your girlfriend?"  
  
Alan started to sweat profusely. He backed away a few steps. D.W. tipped over and started to fall from the chair, but Alan caught her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his chest, smiling contendedly.  
  
"You're such a nice boy," she purred. "And smart, too."  
  
The increasingly nervous Alan carried D.W. to the front door, opened it, and passed through. Setting her down on the front step, he said, "I'll let you know when I go to Africa."  
  
"Thanks, Alan," said D.W. "You cutie."  
  
Alan hurried inside the house, closed the door, and wiped his brow with his wrist. "That was weird," he mumbled.  
  
Returning to his bedroom, he sat down at his desk to double-check his math homework answers.  
  
A few moments later, the most dreadful, horrible, unspeakable idea that had ever entered his head...entered his head. His eyes bulged. His jaw dropped halfway to the floor.  
  
Struggling to compose himself, he rushed out of the bedroom and to the phone. Picking up the receiver, he quickly dialed the hotel number that Jason had left him.  
  
Alan heard several dial tones. His temples throbbed.  
  
"Hello?" It was Jason's voice.  
  
"This is Alan. I've got a question for you, and I want you to answer it truthfully."  
  
"Go ahead," said Jason.  
  
Alan paused for a moment, trying to convince himself that he didn't really want to hear the answer.  
  
Then he went ahead with it.  
  
"Is D.W. your mother?"  
  
(To be continued...) 


	16. Your Worst Nightmare

Alan held his breath. There was silence on the line for a few seconds. Finally he heard Jason's voice again.  
  
"I'll answer your question," said the boy from the future, "but I expect something from you in return."  
  
"What is it?" asked Alan.  
  
"People in your time period get suspicious when they see a kid wandering around alone," Jason went on. "I need you to convince your parents...my grandparents...to come to my hotel and pretend that they know me."  
  
"I'll do it," said Alan, gripping the receiver tightly. "Now, answer my question."  
  
The line fell silent again. A few seconds later, Jason spoke.  
  
"This may be hard for you. You mustn't let this knowledge affect your actions. Otherwise, I may not have a family anymore when I return to my time."  
  
"Answer my question!" Alan exclaimed.  
  
"Yes, Alan," came Jason's quivering voice. "Dora Winifred Read is my mother, and your future wife. Are you satisfied?"  
  
Alan's heart sank within him. Quaking nervously, he put down the receiver and started to walk back to his bedroom. He sat down at his desk and placed his hands over his face.  
  
"Idiot," he muttered to himself. "Why couldn't you have left well enough alone?"  
  
That night, Alan tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep for several hours. Terrible fantasies passed through his mind, such as the following...  
  
In a distant space station, Alan, wearing his blue pajamas, stood at the edge of a metal escarpment. Looking down, he beheld a yawning chasm that seemed to stretch on for miles. The sound of heavy breathing behind him grew louder and louder. Turning around, he saw a terrifying figure dressed in a black cape and mask, walking slowly toward him.  
  
"It is useless to resist," said the figure in a booming voice. "You cannot escape your destiny."  
  
"I'll never join you!" exclaimed Alan vehemently.  
  
"You have already joined me," said the mysterious fiend. "It was you who trained me in the ways of the Dark Side."  
  
"That's impossible!"  
  
The black-clad figure drew closer. "Search your feelings, Alan. You know it is the truth. YOU ARE MY FATHER."  
  
"NOOOOO!" cried the horrified Alan.  
  
"And this," said the figure in black, gesturing to one side, "is my mother."  
  
As Alan watched in terror, a metal clamp descended from the mass of girders and cables that filled the upper part of the space station. Secured within this clamp was a small head. It resembled D.W.'s head, but was bald, pale, and punctuated with cybernetic implants. The clamp came down almost to the floor, then attached the head to the top of a child-size, partially mechanized torso. An automatic power tool activated itself and riveted the head in place.  
  
The finished product, a diminutive cyborg girl, started to walk toward Alan. "You're such a nice boy," she said in a metallic voice. "And smart, too. You'll make an excellent drone."  
  
In despair, Alan turned, threw himself from the ledge, and plunged into the abyss. "Aaaaaarrrrgh..."  
  
The black-clad figure and the cyborg girl looked down from the escarpment as Alan vanished into the darkness. "He'll be back," said the girl ominously.  
  
The fantasy ended, and Alan awoke in a cold sweat.  
  
The next day at school, he struggled to keep his eyes open during a tedious lecture on American history by fifth-grade teacher Mr. Baker.  
  
"On July 4, 1776, the Declaration of Independence was signed," droned the teacher. "Now, can anyone tell me what the Declaration of Independence says?"  
  
Marina raised her hand and started to speak. "When in the course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth the separate and equal station to which the laws of nature and of nature's God entitle them..."  
  
Suddenly Alan wasn't sleepy anymore. The entire class listened raptly while Marina quoted the entire document word for word, without pausing or stuttering. When she reached the end and started to recite the list of signers, Mr. Baker raised a hand to stop her.  
  
"Thank you, Marina, that's very good."  
  
"Very good?" Alan interjected. "That was perfect. I think so, anyway."  
  
A short while later the class let out, and all of Marina's classmates commended her on her remarkable memorization skills.  
  
"That was amazing," Alan said to her. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to be The Brain instead of me?"  
  
"It's tempting, but..." Marina managed to say before Prunella pulled her aside. The two girls started to converse in hushed tones.  
  
"This isn't normal," Prunella remarked. "You're terrible at memorizing things. How did you get so good all of a sudden?"  
  
"I don't know," said Marina anxiously. "I just read something, and then I remember it without having to read it again. It's like I have a photographic memory."  
  
While Marina discussed her growing abilities with Prunella, Fern hurried into Mr. Baker's classroom to talk with her theater coach.  
  
"I'm really sorry for missing the play," she told him.  
  
"That's all right, Fern," said Mr. Baker pleasantly. "If you're grounded, you're grounded."  
  
"I'm not grounded anymore," Fern responded. "I want to be in the next play. Can I? Please?"  
  
The hippo teacher placed a pudgy hand on Fern's shoulder. "Of course you can. We're putting on A Christmas Carol next."  
  
Fern smiled with excitement. "Can I be Tiny Tim?"  
  
"I think you'd make a better Ghost of Christmas Past," said Mr. Baker.  
  
Meanwhile, Marina confided in Prunella about her uneasiness with being able to hear the thoughts of other people.  
  
"If I don't try really hard to shut out their thoughts," she said, "I can learn secrets about them that I shouldn't know. It's embarrassing."  
  
"Isn't it confusing to have all those thoughts coming into your head?" asked Prunella.  
  
"No, it's not. I can listen to one person's thoughts and shut out the others. Sometimes I can even listen to two people's thoughts at the same time and understand both of them. It's like my brain capacity is increasing as I develop new abilities."  
  
"Hmm..." Prunella appeared to be deep in thought, but she was really fantasizing...  
  
...about a circus tent with a sign in front saying, MADAME MARINA THE BLIND SOOTHSAYER. YOUR DEEPEST SECRETS REVEALED. $5 A POP.  
  
Inside the tent, Arthur was seated in front of a crystal ball table opposite Madame Marina, who was dressed in gypsy garb.  
  
"Some of your friends came to see me before you did," she told Arthur. "I saw in their minds that they also like to watch Love Ducks. It's nothing to be ashamed of, Arthur."  
  
"Wow," said Arthur, stupefied. "That's a load off my mind. Thank you, Madame Marina."  
  
"You're welcome," said Madame Marina, holding out her hand. "Now cross my palm."  
  
Prunella awoke from her fantasy.  
  
Suddenly Marina looked offended. "Don't you even think of trying to make money off of my talents," she said sharply.  
  
"What?" Prunella gaped with surprise. "I'd never consider doing that."  
  
"You did just a second ago," said Marina. "I saw it in your mind. You're a greedy little girl, Prunella."  
  
Prunella's voice grew in volume and anger. "If you were really my friend, you wouldn't accuse me of such a thing."  
  
Marina also became angry. "I know what I saw," she insisted. "And if you don't want to be my friend because I tell the truth, then that's fine with me."  
  
As the other fifth-graders watched curiously, Prunella and Marina turned their backs on each other and walked away in a huff.  
  
----  
  
That evening, as the bleary-eyed Nadine sat in front of the TV watching Mary Moo Cow reruns, her mother puttered around the small apartment, watering the plants. Suddenly the doorbell rang, and Mrs. Harris put down her watering can to answer it.  
  
To her surprise, Marina Messersmith stood at the door, cane in hand.  
  
"Oh, hello, Marina," said Mrs. Harris, who impulsively started to fix up her unkempt hair with her hands.  
  
"You don't need to do anything to your hair," said Marina. "I'm blind, remember?"  
  
"Oh, yes." The woman's tail, which emerged from a hole in the back of her jeans, started to wag. "Please come in. You've never visited here before."  
  
Marina stepped into the apartment, holding her cane in front of her but not tapping with it.  
  
Nadine climbed down from the couch. "Hi, Marina," she said in a drowsy voice.  
  
"Mrs. Harris, I'd like to spend some time with Nadine," said Marina. "I have an idea for helping her get rid of the nightmares."  
  
Mrs. Harris smiled hopefully. "I hope this idea works. The doctors can't do a thing for her. She hardly sleeps at all now."  
  
Nadine walked up to Marina, her expression one of astonishment. "Can you really make the nightmares go away?" she asked.  
  
"I'm going to try," Marina told her. Mrs. Harris went into her bedroom so that the two girls could be alone.  
  
Marina crouched down and looked directly into Nadine's eyes.  
  
"I think the time we spent in another dimension affected our brains," she postulated. "My brain was affected more, because I spent more time there. I've gained new abilities."  
  
"What kind of abilities?" Nadine asked.  
  
"I'll show you. Now lie down on the couch."  
  
Nadine complied, while Marina laid down her cane, joined Nadine on the couch, and used the remote control to turn off the TV.  
  
"Now what?" Nadine wondered aloud. "Are you gonna levitate me or something?"  
  
"No, nothing like that." Marina waved her hand slowly above Nadine's face. "Now sleep, Nadine. Sleeeeeep."  
  
Before Nadine knew what had happened, she was strolling down the sidewalk in front of her apartment building. Her heart filled with dread, as this was how the nightmares always began. Then, to her surprise, she heard a sweet, comforting voice, coming as if out of nowhere.  
  
"Don't be afraid, Nadine. This time I'm with you."  
  
Nadine looked to her left side and saw Marina walking next to her, dressed in a superhero-like mask, cape, and tights. A large letter H was emblazoned on the chest of her uniform, and the mask obscured her eyes.  
  
"Marina?" said the bewildered Nadine. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"I'm part of your dream now," Marina answered. "You have nothing to fear as long as I'm by your side."  
  
"But how can you help me? You're blind."  
  
"I have special powers." Marina pointed at the monogram on her chest. "I'm a superhero."  
  
"Cool!" Nadine smiled gleefully. "What superhero are you?"  
  
"Haredevil," Marina replied. Nadine groaned.  
  
Without warning, a glowing, arch-shaped brass portal appeared above the sidewalk directly in front of the two girls. A hurricane-force gale erupted, threatening to drag them through the portal into the empty whiteness beyond.  
  
"We're being sucked in!" cried Nadine fearfully.  
  
"Hold on tight," said Marina, grabbing Nadine by the hand. "I'm going in with you."  
  
Moments later, the powerful wind lifted them from the sidewalk and hurled them, spinning, into the portal that led to the imaginary dimension of Spiritus Mundi.  
  
Suddenly the wind stopped. Nadine and Marina were thrown onto a cold marble surface that seemed to stretch infinitely in all directions.  
  
"So what happens next?" asked Marina as she and Nadine pulled themselves to their feet.  
  
Before Nadine could answer, a tall, emaciated man in a dark robe and hood materialized before them. In his hand was a polished wooden wand, which he raised and pointed at the two girls.  
  
"Moldywart!" exclaimed the frightened Nadine.  
  
"Nevada palabra!" boomed the evil wizard's voice.  
  
Before he could complete his spell, Marina leaped forward and knocked the wand from his hand with a powerful karate kick. Then she vaulted into the air and grabbed the wand in mid-flight. Nadine smiled at her wonderingly as she came down and landed gracefully on her feet.  
  
Without a moment's pause, Marina whirled and pointed the wand directly at Moldywart. "Shazam!" she cried, and the magical word echoed throughout the interminable expanse.  
  
A cloud of rainbow-colored light flew from the wand and enveloped the now- terrified Moldywart. When the cloud dissipated, in place of the evil wizard appeared...a pink Teletubby.  
  
"I'm fwee!" exclaimed the Teletubby, leaping and dancing with joy.  
  
Nadine's mouth fell open with astonishment. "What did you do?" she asked Marina.  
  
"Little-known fact about Spiritus Mundi," replied Marina as she turned her head this way and that, as if scanning the area for more evil. "Everybody here is a character from a kid's show who was turned into a monster by Pickles. But I know the spell to turn them back."  
  
As she spoke, a wild-haired woman clad in skins appeared from the empty air.  
  
"Look out!" yelled Nadine. "It's Morgan le Fay!"  
  
The ageless-looking woman raised her arms as if to cast a spell, but Marina was quicker with her wand. "Shazam!"  
  
An instant later, Morgan had transformed into a confused little blond girl wearing a blouse and skirt.  
  
Suddenly Marina and Nadine heard the voice of a distinguished English gentleman from behind them. "You don't understand," came the silky voice. "I want to destroy Pickles as much as you do."  
  
Marina turned quickly and raised her wand at the finely-dressed man. "Nice try, Moriarty. Shazam!"  
  
"No, please! Let me help...woof...woof..."  
  
Moriarty had morphed abruptly into a gigantic red dog. "My dog!" cried the little blond girl, who ran to embrace her oversized pet.  
  
Marina looked down at Nadine. "Are there any more of them?" she asked.  
  
"Gazillions," Nadine replied. "You'll never stop them all."  
  
It seemed to Marina as if a veil had been lifted on all sides of her, revealing the presence of an enormous army of villains and monsters.  
  
"Oh, right," she muttered. "I remember this part."  
  
The hordes of evil drew closer, nearby deafening Marina with their marching.  
  
"Do something!" cried the fearful Nadine.  
  
And Marina did something. Spinning balletically on her toes, she waved her wand at the approaching host. "Shazam to infinity!" she bellowed.  
  
Bolts of colorful light flew in all directions. One by one, the surrounding monsters vanished to be replaced by puppets, anthropomorphic children, and friendly dragons.  
  
Marina stopped spinning and wiped her brow with her free hand. "Are we safe yet?" she asked Nadine.  
  
Before Nadine could answer, an unseen enemy grabbed the wand from Marina's hand and scurried away. "There he goes!" cried Nadine, pointing.  
  
Turning her head, Marina saw in the distance a fox wearing a bandanna mask and holding the magic wand. "Ha ha ha! You'll never find it now!" gloated the fox, who then hurled the wand with all his strength. The wand grew smaller and smaller until it became a speck on the horizon, then completely disappeared.  
  
"Oh, no!" Nadine lamented. "Without the wand, how will you stop Pickles?"  
  
"I'll have to use a little magic of my own," said Marina confidently.  
  
An instant later, what appeared to be a huge glass dome descended over Marina and Nadine, cutting off their escape. Large white snowflakes rose out of the marble surface under their feet. The ground started to shake, causing the two girls to lose their footing.  
  
When Marina looked up again, she saw a gigantic face peering at her through the glass. "It's Pickles!" shouted Nadine. "We're trapped in a snow dome!"  
  
"Muwahahaha!" laughed the evil Pomeranian. "You were a fool to think you could defeat me in my own world, Marina."  
  
Marina rose to her feet and glared at Pickles. "Okay, now you've pushed me too far," she said defiantly. "No more Mr. Nice Girl."  
  
She held out her hand, and instantaneously produced a smaller snow dome, which she lowered so that Nadine could see it.  
  
Inside the small dome stood Pickles, who held an even smaller dome in her hand. Inside of this smaller dome stood Nadine and Marina, who were examining an even smaller dome, inside of which stood Pickles, who held an almost invisibly small dome, and so on.  
  
Pickles looked up and was surprised to see the enormous faces of Marina and Nadine staring down at her. Marina glanced up and observed that the gigantic face of Pickles that had been looking down at them was now looking upward with a surprised expression.  
  
"This is so weird," Nadine muttered.  
  
"It appears that we have reached a stalemate," said Pickles in a somewhat deflated voice.  
  
"Oh, no," said Marina, her confidence unabated. "This is no stalemate. I'm only toying with you."  
  
With that, she snapped her fingers, and the snow domes disappeared. Now Nadine and Marina were standing on the marble surface again, with Pickles standing before them and nobody else in sight. Pickles glanced in all directions, confused.  
  
"We're over here, Pickles," said Marina flatly.  
  
Fixing her eyes on the two girls, Pickles flew into a rage and charged at them. "NOOOO!" she roared.  
  
"Yeeees," said Marina. As she and Nadine watched, Pickles moved toward them with less and less speed, despite the fact that her legs were moving at a constant rate. Soon she was running furiously, but only inching forward.  
  
"In fifth grade I learned about something called Zeno's Paradox," Marina explained. "If you want to walk a certain distance, then you have to walk half the distance, then half the remaining distance, and so on. It should take you forever to get to where you're going."  
  
Finally, the panting, exhausted Pickles stopped running and lowered her face demurely. "All right, I give up. What do you want?"  
  
Marina looked at Nadine. "I don't know. What do we want?"  
  
"I want you to stop being evil and be my friend again," Nadine demanded.  
  
"Oh, but I like being evil!" Pickles whined. The two girls glowered at her.  
  
Sighing, Pickles closed her eyes. Dark smoggy clouds seemed to rise up from her skin. They circled in the air around her, and at one point appeared to form the word EVIL. Then they dissipated, and a cheeky grin spread across Pickles' face.  
  
"Nadine!" she cried gleefully. "My bestest friend in the whole world!"  
  
"Pickles!" exclaimed Nadine, grinning. "Give me a hug!"  
  
The girl and her Pomeranian friend rushed to embrace each other.  
  
"My work here is done," said Marina as she faded away.  
  
She was once again on the couch in Nadine's apartment. Looking down, she observed with her enhanced senses that her little friend was sleeping peacefully, with a smile on her face.  
  
----  
  
Also sleeping peacefully was Arthur, who awoke the next morning more refreshed than he had felt for a long time. As he climbed out of his bed, he noticed that everything seemed more...normal.  
  
He rubbed his head with his hands. "Hmm," he muttered to himself. "The weird feeling's gone."  
  
As Mrs. Read was feeding spoonfuls of strained peas to Kate in the kitchen, Arthur strolled in, clad in his pajamas. "Good morning, Arthur," she said. "You look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed today."  
  
"Mom, I think my head's better," said Arthur, pulling out a chair and sitting down. "I don't have the weird feeling anymore."  
  
"That's wonderful, dear," said Mrs. Read as she wiped Kate's mouth with a napkin. "Now you can go to Africa with Sue Ellen."  
  
Suddenly Arthur felt as if his brain was on fire. He gasped in horror.  
  
"What's wrong?" asked his mother.  
  
"A-A-Africa...S-S-Sue..." he stammered.  
  
"That's right," said Mrs. Read. "You agreed to go to Africa with Sue Ellen, remember?"  
  
Arthur struggled to breathe. Drops of sweat rolled down his cheeks.  
  
"S-Sue Ellen's in love with me," he said in a quiet, terrified voice.  
  
His mother shot him a confused look.  
  
"I kissed her." Arthur's voice grew louder and more frantic. "On the lips! Multiple times!"  
  
"Calm down, Arthur," said the suddenly concerned Mrs. Read.  
  
"AAAAAARRRRGH!" he screamed.  
  
(To be continued...) 


	17. Odette's Swan Song

"What'll I do? What'll I tell her?" The pajama-clad Arthur paced back and forth in the Read living room, frantically seeking a solution to his dilemma. "'I'm sorry, Sue Ellen, but I only kissed you because my brain was scrambled from falling out of a tree.'"

"I think the wisest thing to do is tell her the truth," suggested Mr. Read, who was seated on the couch next to Mrs. Read and D.W.

"I can't do that," said Arthur. "I might break her heart. Or she might break my nose. You've never seen her angry, Dad."

"Then you'll have to pretend you still love her," said Mrs. Read.

"For how long?" asked Arthur, exasperated. "Until I get back from Africa? Until I graduate from high school? For the rest of my life? She'll figure it out eventually."

"I know," said D.W. "Tell her you're allergic to cats."

"She doesn't have a cat," Arthur pointed out.

"I don't understand," Mr. Read interjected. "Why don't you want to kiss her? What's so bad about kissing?"

"It's gross," Arthur responded. "Her lips are fuzzy."

"Some day you may feel differently," said Mr. Read.

After a few more seconds of pacing, Arthur suddenly stopped in his tracks. "Wait...a...minute. Why did Carla break up with Mr. Ratburn?"

"Because he was mean to his sister," D.W. answered.

"Hmm..." Arthur looked at D.W. wickedly.

"Oh, come on, Arthur," said D.W., folding her arms. "You're mean to me all the time, and Sue Ellen doesn't care."

"That's a good point," said Arthur. "But what if I was mean to somebody else?"

He looked around the room. Pal sat in one corner, gazing at him with loyal, soulful eyes. Kate waddled clumsily across the floor, an expression of cherubic innocence on her face.

"Wait, I've got it," said Arthur, pounding his fist into his palm. "I'll be mean to...to...to Francine's cat."

Pal suddenly leaped to his feet, panting excitedly.

"Why not just be mean to Sue Ellen?" D.W. suggested.

Arthur swallowed. "Are you kidding? She'd kill me. You'd be an orphan."

"I think you're exaggerating," said Mrs. Read. "She's a sweet little girl. Just because she can split bricks in half doesn't mean she'll do the same to you."

"You don't know her, Mom," said Arthur, who had started pacing again. "If only you'd seen her face when she thought I had read her diary..."

"Hey, that's a good idea," said D.W. "Read her diary, then she'll get mad at you and break up with you."

"She'd break up with me, all right," Arthur retorted. "She'd break up a table and several chairs with me."

"Well, how about this?" D.W. continued. "Just ask her if you can read her diary. That would make her mad, but not as mad as if you actually read it."

Arthur stopped pacing again. "Hmm...you may have something there, D.W."

----

Later that day, Arthur and Sue Ellen sat together on their usual bench by the playground, holding hands and enjoying the sunshine.

"Can I ask you something, Sue Ellen?" said Arthur hesitantly.

"Of course you can," Sue Ellen replied.

"Now that I'm your boyfriend..."

Arthur became nervous and couldn't continue.

"What?" Sue Ellen looked at him quizzically.

Arthur gathered up his courage. "Sue Ellen, can I read your diary?"

As he expected, Sue Ellen's expression turned into one of surprise and shock.

Several seconds later, the girl reached into her backpack. _Uh-oh_, thought Arthur. _She's gonna pull out some kind of ninja weapon and hurt me with it._

But instead, Sue Ellen pulled out her diary and handed it to Arthur.

"I thought you'd never ask," she said kindly. "Knock yourself out."

As Arthur looked at the diary that he clutched in his hands, his brain overloaded with terror and completely shut down. He became irrational and started to hit himself repeatedly and forcefully on the forehead with the diary.

Sue Ellen giggled. "Silly boy. I didn't mean that literally."

----

It was a typical Saturday morning at the Cooper residence. In the kitchen, Mrs. Cooper was feeding the baby, Megan, while Dallin wolfed down a second bowl of cold cereal. In the room shared by Van and Logan, Van watched as Logan pinned a new rock star poster to the wall on his side of the room. When he was finished, Van handed him another poster.

Logan unrolled it. "Who's this dude?" he asked.

"Nigel Kennedy," Van replied. "He's a violinist_and_ a rock star, so I guess he goes in the middle."

As Logan held the poster against the middle wall, Van checked his watch. "It's about that time," he said to himself.

He rolled into the study, where his father Mel and his sisters Quinn and Odette were engrossed in their studies. Mr. Cooper was reviewing the latest briefs from the Crosswire lawsuit, Odette was scanning the newest issue of Cosmo Swan, and Quinn was reading Chekhov's _The Wild Duck_.

"Hey, Dad," said Van to his father, "is it all right if I take ?"

Mr. Cooper looked up from his paperwork. "Still pining for your friend Buster?"

"No, it's not that," Van responded. "It's just that the things I thought about last week when I went out...I'd like to think about them some more."

Odette glanced at Van, her eyes narrowed.

"If it's all right with your mother, it's all right with me," said Mr. Cooper.

As Van sped toward the kitchen to ask his mother's permission, Odette put down her magazine. "I don't know about you, Dad," she said quietly to Mr. Cooper, "but I'm getting a little suspicious."

"I trust Van," said her father, without looking up from his papers.

"I don't." Odette watched as Van rolled out the front door, which was held open by Logan. "First Mr. Crosswire tells his daughter that she can't see Van, and now Van's suddenly going out by himself for a spin every Saturday morning. Call me paranoid, but I think that's more than a coincidence."

Mr. Cooper eyed her emotionlessly. "If you want to spy on him, go ahead. It's your time you're wasting."

A short while later, Muffy's limousine came to a stop at the side of the street near the point where the asphalt gave way to gravel.

"I'll walk the rest of the way," Muffy informed the chauffeur. Pulling a fifty-dollar note from her wallet, she handed it to him. "Were we ever here, Bailey?"

"No, Miss Muffy," said Bailey in a demure English accent.

Clutching a small black leather pouch, Muffy climbed out of the limo, closed the door after her, and started down the unpaved street toward the forest.

Moments later and two blocks away, Odette rounded a corner and spotted the limo in the distance. Once again she narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"If I'm not mistaken, that's Muffy's limo," she muttered to herself. "Methinks monkey business is afoot."

The swan girl picked up her pace. A minute or two later she arrived at the driver's side of the limousine, and tapped slightly on the window with her beak.

Bailey pushed a switch to roll down the window. "Yes, miss?"

"Excuse me, sir. You are Muffy Crosswire's chauffeur, are you not?" asked Odette with all the courtesy that she felt a man of his station didn't deserve.

"We were never here," said Bailey. Rolling up the window, he resumed his reading of Hugo's "Les Miserables".

Undeterred, Odette started to follow the gravel road, hoping that her hunch was correct.

Roughtly a half mile from her position, Muffy entered the clearing where she had met with Van the previous week, and found to her delight that Van was again waiting for her there.

"Hi, Van," she said, smiling. "What's new?"

"Oh, this and that," said the duck boy. "Quinn finally decided on a law school. She's going to Stanford."

"Good choice," said Muffy as she sat on the grass next to Van's wheelchair. "I'd like to go to Stanford on a fashion scholarship some day."

"What do you have in that pouch?" Van asked.

Muffy opened the black leather pouch that was strapped over her shoulder, and removed a pair of binoculars.

"Those are really nice," said Van. "Thinking of doing some bird watching?"

Muffy giggled. "You're the only bird I want to watch. No, these are to make sure that nobody followed us here."

"Nobody followed us here last week," Van remarked.

Muffy used the wheel of Van's chair to lift herself to her feet, then put the binoculars in front of her eyes. "Getting away with something once is easy," she said sagely. "Twice is harder."

"See anything?" Van asked glibly.

Then Muffy gasped. "It's Odette!"

"My sister?" Van sighed bitterly. "I should've known she'd suspect something."

"She looks lost," Muffy noted. Indeed, Odette's meanderings through the forest seemed to lack a precise direction.

"We can't let her find us," said Van. "If she gets closer, we'd better split."

Muffy watched carefully, breathlessly, as Odette craned her long neck in one direction after another, trying to get her bearings.

After a few seconds of indecision, Odette started to walk in a straight line directly toward Muffy and Van's location...

...when a bearded aardvark man leaped from behind a nearby bush and grabbed the swan girl, holding a knife to her neck.

Muffy screamed.

(To be continued...)


	18. Life's Not Fair

Not much had changed in the Cooper household since Odette had left to follow Van. Mr. Cooper was still looking over his briefs, Quinn was making rapid progress through the Chekhov play, and Logan sat in his bedroom, listening to the latest heavy metal music through headphones.  
  
When Quinn and Mr. Cooper heard the front door fly open, they looked over, expecting to see Odette. To their shock, they saw instead Muffy Crosswire, the daughter of the man they distrusted more than any other.  
  
The lawyer and his seventeen-year-old daughter quickly rose to their feet and confronted the girl, who was pale and breathing heavily.  
  
"What do you want?" asked Quinn with barely concealed disdain.  
  
Muffy struggled to catch her breath. "O-Odette...Odette..."  
  
"What about her?" inquired Mr. Cooper.  
  
"She's been kidnapped!" Muffy blurted out.  
  
Quinn swallowed. Mr. Cooper choked. Logan, Dallin, and Mrs. Cooper approached Muffy with expressions of concern.  
  
"Is this some kind of a joke?" said Mrs. Cooper suspiciously. "If it is, it's in very bad taste."  
  
"It's no joke!" Muffy yelled at her. "I saw a man with a beard and a scar jump out and grab her and he had a knife and I tried to call the police but my cell phone was dead so I ran all the way to the limo and I came here to tell you and Van's on his way because I didn't have time to wait for him and I've been meeting secretly with him and I confess everything!"  
  
After uttering this run-on sentence without a single breath, Muffy looked even more pale and frantic than before. "Sit down, Muffy," Mr. Cooper urged her, although it sounded more like a command. "Logan," he said to his son, "go out and see if you can find Van. I'll get the police on the line."  
  
As Muffy took a seat in the study and Mr. Cooper headed for the telephone, Mrs. Cooper expressed her reservations. "Why should we believe her, Mel?"  
  
"She has nothing to gain by lying, dear." Mr. Cooper picked up the receiver and dialed 911.  
  
Less than ten minutes later, two policewomen had arrived at the Cooper home and were grilling Muffy for her account of the kidnapping. The members of the Cooper family, with the exception of Odette and Dallin, were gathered around, their faces pallid and anxious.  
  
"He was an aardvark man, in his twenties, I think," Muffy recounted. "He had a long black beard, and long hair, too. There was a scar on the left side of his mouth, like somebody punched him."  
  
Dallin walked up to Muffy and handed her a pad of paper and a pencil. "Thanks, Dallin," said one of the policewomen. "Now, Muffy, see if you can draw a picture of what the kidnapper looked like."  
  
Muffy inserted the eraser end of the pencil into her mouth and started to think. As she did so, Quinn beckoned to her father. He followed her into the study, where she spoke to him quietly. "I wouldn't trust a word she says. I'll bet you anything her father's behind this."  
  
"Don't make any hasty judgments," Mr. Cooper admonished her.  
  
"Yeah, Quinn," said Van, who had followed the two into the study out of curiosity. "Why don't you keep your big fat beak shut?"  
  
"Why don't you?" Quinn glared at him angrily. "None of this would have happened if you hadn't sneaked out to see Muffy."  
  
"That's enough," said Mr. Cooper firmly. "I don't want to hear any more blaming from either of you."  
  
Meanwhile, Muffy ripped the top page from her pad and handed it to the policewomen, who made discouraged mumbling sounds while analyzing the crudely drawn portrait. "I'm sorry, officers," Muffy said to them. "I'm good at remembering faces, but I'm terrible at drawing them."  
  
At that moment the doorbell rang. Quinn answered it; to her surprise, Ed and Millicent Crosswire stood at the top of the access ramp, dressed in their finest attire. The couple exchanged scowls with Quinn, who then stood aside to allow them to enter.  
  
The Crosswires ignored the dirty looks shot at them by the Cooper family members, and walked directly toward Muffy, standing between her and the interrogating officers. Muffy swallowed nervously.  
  
"You were seeing Van against our wishes," said Mrs. Crosswire furiously. "Not only that, but you put yourself in danger. What if the kidnapper had gone after you instead?"  
  
"Why would he do that?" asked Muffy naively.  
  
"Ransom," replied Mr. Crosswire, who was no less angry than his wife. "I'm one of the richest men in Elwood City."  
  
"Why do you find Van so interesting?" Mrs. Crosswire asked her daughter. "What's wrong with the children at Uppity Downs? They're smarter and more cultured than he is."  
  
"They're a bunch of snobs," Muffy answered. "And Van is a nice boy. He doesn't take after his father."  
  
Mr. Crosswire pointed at Muffy menacingly. "I don't want to hear any more. When we get home, I am going to give you the...the...the longest lecture of your entire life."  
  
"Hurt me, Dad," Muffy mumbled incredulously.  
  
"Excuse me, sir, madam," said one of the policewomen to the Crosswires, "but we're conducting a criminal investigation. Could you please not stand between us and our witness?"  
  
"Yes, of course," said Mrs. Crosswire as she and her husband stepped out of the way so that the officers could resume their questioning of Muffy.  
  
"We'll cooperate in any way that we can," said Mr. Crosswire to the officers.  
  
Mr. Cooper confronted him with an expression of unbelieving surprise. "I don't see how it would profit you to help us," he said gruffly.  
  
The lawyer's cynical remark caused anger to well up in Ed Crosswire's heart. He struggled to restrain himself. Turning his face away from Mr. Cooper, he muttered, "My daughter's involved."  
  
----  
  
The abduction of Odette Cooper sent a wave of terror through the quiet neighborhood. By the next morning, extra-tall missing child posters showcasing Odette's face and long neck appeared on nearly every telephone pole in the city.  
  
"If he chose to, God could surround us with his power, protecting us from any harm that might come to us," preached Reverend Fulsome to the gathered throng of parishioners. "But for reasons we do not and cannot understand, he chooses not to. It is not for us to question why..."  
  
"Yada yada yada," mumbled Quinn Cooper under her breath. Her mother cast her an offended glance.  
  
Several pews behind them sat the Read family. D.W., wearing her finest dress, sat restlessly, wishing that the meeting would end or that an angel would appear. Next to her sat Arthur and Sue Ellen, who were holding hands; Arthur looked as if he was struggling to keep a reverent face in spite of the fire ants crawling around in his underwear.  
  
Finally the congregation sang the closing hymn and began to file out of the chapel. D.W. greeted the Tibble boys, who were in attendance with their grandmother.  
  
"That was really boring," said Tommy. "I yawned through the whole thing."  
  
"I yawned more than you did," said Timmy.  
  
Mrs. Read dragged D.W. along by the hand as they strolled down the sidewalk toward their house. Sue Ellen continued to walk alongside Arthur, gripping his hand affectionately.  
  
Arthur could do little more than stammer and ask glib questions like, "What did you think of the sermon, Sue Ellen?"  
  
"It was okay, I guess," she replied. "At least he didn't try to blame the family for what happened, like some religions I've seen."  
  
In the meantime, the Coopers were herding their children into the family van. Quinn and Logan helped Van into his seat, then folded his wheelchair and loaded it into the back of the vehicle.  
  
As Mr. Cooper drove the van along the street, the rest of his family sat silently, entertaining tender thoughts about the girl who should have been with them, but whose fate was unknown.  
  
Then Mrs. Cooper turned to Quinn and broke the silence. "What did you find objectionable about the sermon, Quinn?" she asked bluntly.  
  
Quinn didn't answer, but only lowered her beak slightly.  
  
"You were being very irreverent," her mother added.  
  
Finally Quinn began to spill her feelings. "Mom, I don't think the reverend has any idea what he's talking about."  
  
Mrs. Cooper scowled at her.  
  
"It's just like when Van was crippled," Quinn went on. "All he could talk about was how God lets things like that happen for some mysterious reason that we can't understand. Well, maybe I want to understand. And maybe the reverend is just making excuses because he doesn't have the answers."  
  
"Reverend Fulsome is a wise man," said Mr. Cooper without turning his head. "Just because he can't explain the mysteries of God in legalese doesn't mean he's ignorant about them."  
  
"It just doesn't seem fair to me," said Quinn, her voice starting to break. "We've been good Christians all these years, and what has it gotten us? Van's crippled, and now Odette's missing. While people like the Crosswires have everything they need, and then some."  
  
"Life's not fair," said Mr. Cooper flippantly. "You expect too much, Quinn."  
  
As he gripped the steering wheel he could hear Quinn sniffling and whimpering. His own heart ached for his lost daughter, but he pushed the feeling aside.  
  
(To be continued...) 


	19. Binky, This is Houston

Later on that same Sunday, Fern sat and stared gloomily at the computer monitor, which had already lapsed into screen saver mode. Her father wandered past and noticed her sad expression. "Why the long face?" he asked.  
  
Fern turned slowly in the revolving office chair. "Well, Dad, part of it is the fact that I'm a dog, and part of it is that I feel in some way responsible for Odette being kidnapped."  
  
Mr. Walters sat down on the edge of the desk near her, and tried to comfort her. "Now, Fern, there's nothing you could have done to prevent that from happening, so don't blame yourself."  
  
"But, Dad, it was my..."  
  
Her father eyed her curiously as she hesitated to complete her sentence.  
  
"It was my idea for Muffy and Van to meet where they did," she admitted. "I didn't think anybody would be there, let alone kidnappers."  
  
"Ah, now I see." Mr. Walters grinned. "So it was you who arranged their secret rendezvous."  
  
"But it's even worse than that," Fern continued. "You see, I met this girl in a chat room, and we had a lot in common, and I wanted to go to that same place to meet her, but she wanted to meet me in a public place because she thought I might be a kidnapper. And I was upset about that. But now..."  
  
"Why didn't you want to meet her in a public place?" asked her father.  
  
It suddenly dawned on Fern that she had painted herself into a corner, and the only way out was to lie, or at least conceal part of the truth.  
  
"Well...I...didn't have a problem with meeting in a public place. It's just that I liked going to the spot near the creek, and that's the first place that came to mind."  
  
"Mm-hmm." Mr. Walters nodded attentively.  
  
"I guess Greta's decided that I'm a kidnapper," Fern lamented. "She's left the chat room, and she doesn't respond to my messages anymore."  
  
"Well, keep trying." Her father stood and smiled. "Sooner or later she'll see you for the wonderful girl that you are."  
  
As he walked away, Fern turned back to the computer and moved the mouse cursor to the Receive Messages button. A popup banner appeared with the words, YOU HAVE NO NEW MESSAGES. She sighed despondently.  
  
----  
  
At roughly the same time, Prunella sat in the living room of her house, looking pensive and disheartened as if faced with an insurmountable dilemma.  
  
As she moped, there came a knock at the front door. She slowly rose to answer it. Binky stood at her doorstep, appearing no happier than she was.  
  
"Oh, hi, Binky," said Prunella in the most pleasant voice she could muster. "Do come in."  
  
Looking desperate, Binky grabbed Prunella firmly by the shoulders. "You've gotta help me," he begged. "The love of my life is missing. I need you to help me find her."  
  
Sighing bitterly, Prunella brushed away the boy's hands, then turned and led him into the living room. "I'm sorry, Binky," she said with regret. "I'm sorry about your loss, but there's nothing I can do about it."  
  
"What do you mean?" Binky asked unbelievingly. "You've got your crystal ball. You can talk to the spirits and ask them where Odette is. Can't you?"  
  
Prunella returned to her seat on the couch and patted the other cushion with her hand. "Sit down, Binky."  
  
As Binky sat next to her, Prunella's voice became serious. "As soon as I heard the news of Odette's kidnapping, I went straight to the crystal ball and tried to contact the spirits. I spent most of the day there. And guess what the spirits told me."  
  
"Uh...what?"  
  
"Nothing!" Prunella wailed, covering her face with her hands. "I might as well have used a freaking bowling ball!"  
  
"Well, can't you try again?" asked Binky.  
  
"No!" Prunella snapped at him. "I've been doing the fortune-telling thing since I was four years old, and all I've done is hurt people. I'm through! T-H-R-O-U-G-H!"  
  
"Uh, that spells 'through', doesn't it?"  
  
"I almost destroyed the world, Binky!" Prunella ranted. "I made contact with another dimension where the natives weren't friendly. Marina was almost trapped there forever. And what's worse, when I tried to do it again at the Randi Institute, nothing happened! I could have made a million dollars!"  
  
"Whoa," said Binky. "I didn't know there was so much money in it."  
  
"And now Marina doesn't trust me anymore," Prunella continued. "And with Odette being kidnapped, I have a real chance to use my abilities to help my friends, but what do the spirits tell me? Nothing! N-O-T-H-I-N-G!"  
  
"Are you, like, practicing for a spelling bee or something?"  
  
Prunella sighed deeply and angrily. "It's no use, Binky. If I try to help you, something terrible will probably happen to you."  
  
"Hey, I'm not afraid," said Binky, raising his fists. "Monsters from another dimension? Bring 'em on. I'll take all comers."  
  
Suddenly and unexpectedly, Prunella started to laugh. "What's so funny?" Binky asked her.  
  
"You are," Prunella giggled. "You're so stupid, you make me laugh."  
  
"Hey!" Binky glowered at her.  
  
Prunella calmed down and composed herself. "You know, Binky, you could do a lot better than Odette Cooper."  
  
"I don't think so," said Binky. "She's the best dancer in the whole city."  
  
"Yes, but dancing isn't everything. Besides, there are other girls who like you. Girls your own age."  
  
Having said that, Prunella started to bat her eyelashes and smile seductively at Binky. The boy fell silent, apparently confused by her behavior.  
  
Finally he spoke. "Like who?"  
  
Prunella's face fell. "Binky, this is Houston," she said with a sarcastic tone. "Come in, Binky." Then she moved closer to Binky and started to smile and bat her eyelashes again.  
  
"Well?" said the oblivious Binky.  
  
Prunella clenched her fists angrily. "I'm in love with you, you big fat stupid oaf!" Surprised at her sudden outburst, she placed a hand over her mouth.  
  
Binky grinned. "Oh, I get it now."  
  
Prunella gazed at him hopefully.  
  
"You're jealous," said Binky smugly. "You don't want to find Odette because you're in love with me. I see your little game now."  
  
Prunella jumped to her feet and pointed toward the front door. "Get out of my house!" she roared indignantly.  
  
Frightened, Binky rose quickly from the couch and hurried through the door. After watching him leave, Prunella sat down again, whimpering pathetically.  
  
(To be continued...) 


	20. The Truth Comes Out

A week had passed since the incident, and the Elwood City police force was no closer to determing the status or whereabouts of Odette Cooper.

As for Arthur and Sue Ellen, they were still blissfully in love...or at least Sue Ellen was.

As they sat on the edge of Arthur's bed and kissed, Arthur struggled not to retch as a result of the unpleasant contact with Sue Ellen's lip fuzz.

_How long can I keep this up?_ he thought. _Sooner or later I'm going to hurl all over her._

Sue Ellen withdrew her lips from Arthur's, and giggled when she saw the boy's consternated expression. "You're so weird."

"Yeah." Arthur licked his lips to remove the aftertaste. "I guess that fall from the tree must have permanently scrambled my brains."

Sue Ellen giggled again. "You still haven't read my diary," she noted.

"I'll get around to it." Arthur tried hard to mask his dread. "One of these days. It's a big step, you know."

"Maybe I can make it a smaller step." Sue Ellen reached into her pack, which lay at the foot of the bed, and pulled out her diary. She flipped through the pages as Arthur watched anxiously. "This is a story I wrote about you and me. It starts with us sitting in a cafe in the Latin Quarter of Paris..."

"Whoa, whoa!" Arthur held both hands in front of him.

"Don't you want to hear my story? It's very romantic."

"Please don't read it to me." Arthur almost sounded as if he was pleading.

Sue Ellen looked at him with concern. "What's wrong, Arthur?"

"I...I..." Arthur could only stammer.

"What is it?" Fear suddenly enveloped Sue Ellen's face. "Have you...have you stopped loving me?"

"Yeah," said Arthur meekly, lowering his head. "I really think we're too young to..."

He stopped in mid-sentence when he saw tears forming in the girl's eyes.

She started to sniffle. "I knew it was too good to last. I felt so empty, with my parents gone and Carla broken up with Nigel."

"I'm sorry," said Arthur. "I should have told you this sooner."

Rather than reply, Sue Ellen began to sob violently. Jumping from the bed, she hurried out of Arthur's room. Arthur could hear the sound of rapid footsteps on the stairway, followed moments later by the front door slamming.

He glanced down at his body and breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm still alive."

----

Muffy opened the door to the Frenskys' apartment and walked in unheralded, as she was accustomed to doing. She saw Francine and Beat sitting on the living room couch, chatting in an animated fashion. "Hey, girls," she called to them.

"Hey, Muffy," Francine greeted her. "Long time no see."

"Yeah, it has been." Muffy seated herself on the couch with her friends. "Uppity Downs is murder, but I think I can finally see a light at the end of the tunnel, thanks to Mrs. Stiles' tutoring."

"You couldn't have chosen a better tutor," Beat remarked.

"And you won't believe this," Muffy went on, "but Angela hasn't tried to rob her or cheat her or anything. She's been a perfect roommate. Mrs. Stiles got her a job at the electronics store where she works."

"Then maybe she's telling the truth about wanting to turn her life around," said Francine optimistically.

"It's like Mrs. Stiles is making Angela a better person, while Angela is bringing out Mrs. Stiles' Hollywood 'bad girl' side," said Muffy. "It's the first time I've seen Mrs. Stiles really happy."

"That's a good thing," said Beat. "I was afraid that any day she would go back on the drugs and end up in rehab again."

Muffy took a deep breath. "So, have you two made up your minds about what to do for Thanksgiving?"

"It looks like I'm doomed to stay here," said Francine with a hint of sadness. "My parents won't budge. I can forget about seeing England or David Beckham."

"Which means I'm staying, too," said Beat.

"I think you should go," Francine told her.

"Sorry, Francine," said Beat with determination, "but I meant what I said."

"Beat, you must care a lot about Francine," Muffy remarked.

"Yes, I do," Beat responded. To prove her point, she climbed down from the couch, jumped sideways into Francine's lap, and draped an arm around her shoulders. "Francine and I love each other very much, don't we, Frankie?" she said with mock sweetness.

After several seconds in this position, Beat noticed that Francine's expression had turned into one of confusion and fear.

Beat suddenly appeared emotionally shaken. As Muffy watched curiously, Beat pushed herself off of Francine's lap and went to sit on the other end of the couch, where she looked away from the other girls.

Muffy found the silence uncomfortable. "Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Beat and I would like to talk in private for a few minutes," replied Francine, who herself appeared a bit shaken.

"Well...okay," said Muffy quietly. "I'll wait here."

"Leave, Muffy," said Francine with utter seriousness.

Without a word, the perplexed Muffy rose from the couch and headed toward the door of the apartment. "I'll call you when we're done," Francine said to her as she exited.

Now alone with Beat, Francine observed that the rabbit-aardvark girl was still facing away from her, and seemingly trembling with embarrassment.

"What's wrong?" Francine asked. "You can talk to me about it."

Beat turned slowly to face her. "I frightened you. I'm sorry."

"No, you didn't frighten me," Francine reassured her.

Beat looked away from her again, and took several breaths to compose herself. Then she began to speak, her voice quivering slightly.

"What you suspect about me is true. I don't find boys interesting at all. I never have. But I find you endlessly intriguing."

Francine's mouth fell open. "You mean..."

"Yes, Francine," Beat continued. "I'm...attracted to you."

Francine closed her mouth and became speechless and motionless for several seconds.

Beat looked at her again. "You're taking this better than I expected."

Francine opened her mouth hesitantly. "So...that's why you want to stay with me instead of going to England."

"Yes," said Beat. "And that's why I declined to take the advanced placement test. I didn't want to be separated from you."

Once again, Francine fell silent for several moments. Beat finally waved a hand in front of Francine's face to make sure she was conscious.

"I'm sorry," Francine said quietly. "It's just...such a surprise."

"I didn't know how a Jewish girl would react to something like this," said Beat with emotion. "If you want, I'll never mention it again."

"No," said Francine with sudden urgency. "It's all right that you feel that way. In fact, I'm glad that you do."

"You are?" said Beat with surprise.

"When you sat in my lap, and I looked like I was afraid," Francine went on, "it's not because I thought you were coming on to me. It's because..."

Beat gazed at her breathlessly and expectantly.

"...because I was having the same feelings," Francine concluded. "For you."

Beat started to stammer. "Then...that means..."

Francine held up her hand. "Wait, Beat. I...sorta think we shouldn't act on this. Not yet."

"Why not?" Beat asked her.

"Last year," Francine began, "Catherine and I were talking, and she told me how she had feelings for another girl when she was about my age."

"Oh, really."

"But then she hit puberty, and all she could think about was boys."

Beat became pensive. "So, in other words, you're afraid that our feelings will change as we get older."

"It could be embarrassing," said Francine weakly.

Beat sighed plaintively. "Well, then, maybe I should think about going to England after all."

----

In front of Francine's apartment building, Muffy paced along the sidewalk impatiently. Occasionally she checked her Princess Peach watch to determine exactly how many minutes and seconds her best friend had caused her to waste. Bailey, her dutiful chauffeur, sat at his post in the limo, reading from Dostoevsky's "Crime and Punishment".

"Muffy!" She suddenly heard a girl's voice calling her name. Looking in the direction of the sound, she saw Marina Messersmith walking toward her, cane in hand. Muffy thought it odd that Marina could tell who she was from such a distance.

"Hey, Marina," she said as the blind girl drew closer.

"Got a minute?" asked Marina.

"Sure," Muffy replied. "What can I help you with? Fashion? Romance?"

Rather than answer, Marina gazed directly into Muffy's eyes. Muffy briefly felt as if something was piercing her brain. It was a strange, rather pleasant sensation...then it was suddenly gone.

"Thanks, Muffy," said Marina, who then walked past her without the use of her cane.

Muffy watched her shrink into the distance. "I wonder what that was about," she muttered to herself.

(Next chapter: Thanksgiving. The roller coaster ride begins...)


	21. Thanksgiving Day

Soon the Thanksgiving holiday rolled around, and the denizens of Elwood City all celebrated it (or didn't celebrate it) in their unique ways.  
  
The sizable Frensky family rented a local lodge to accommodate all of the clan. Francine once again had the pleasure of hearing great-grandpa Frensky tell his stories of deprivation and misery in the Warsaw Ghetto. Once again she neglected to write them down, supposing that she knew them well enough.  
  
In faraway Chicago, Buster and his parents enjoyed a simple, intimate meal together. Arthur was delighted when Buster phoned him and let him know that the Baxter-Mills family would return to Elwood for a visit over Christmas.  
  
The Coopers decided to forego the traditional observance in favor of a day of prayer for the safe return of Odette, who still had not been found.  
  
The Crosswires, who had plenty to be thankful for, hosted a lavish gala at their mansion. Several of Muffy's friends from Uppity Downs, including Mavis, Connor, and Neville, dropped by her house for a social call. Muffy's parents allowed her to spend time with the Coopers, but only when police investigators were involved.  
  
The Powers family enjoyed a humble dinner at their home, with a few relatives in attendance--as well as Jason, whom everyone in the family addressed as "Alan's cousin". Jason ate very little, and seemed more concerned with some mysterious and terrible event that would soon take place.  
  
As a result of winning a coin toss with Muffy, Fern had the privilege of inviting Mrs. Stiles (whose relations with her own family were less than warm) to the Walters extended family dinner. Everyone present was amazed at the change in the former teacher, who was now cheerful and animated instead of moody and distant. One of Fern's relatives, an executive at a Hollywood studio, even discussed the possibility of giving Mrs. Stiles a small role in a new movie.  
  
Angela Ratburn, still a persona non grata among her family, was not invited to their holiday dinner--but, in her usual dramatic fashion, showed up anyway. After seeing that the woman was determined not to leave, Mr. Ratburn and Rodentia decided to simply ignore her. Making matters worse was the fact that Angela's pregnancy was becoming all too obvious.  
  
At the Messersmith family dinner, Marina was hard-pressed to hide from her relatives the fact that her enhanced senses eliminated the need for a cane. As she sat at the large table and enjoyed turkey and cranberry sauce, she came to realize that she could tell exactly what was going on in the minds of all her family members and relatives...simultaneously.  
  
As for Beat and her parents, they flew to England and watched as David Beckham led his Manchester United team to a narrow victory over Wolverhampton. Beat spent much of her time wishing that Francine could have been with her.  
  
The prospect of seeing her parents again made Sue Ellen forget about her painful breakup with Arthur. She and Carla traveled to Botswana, where they met up with the Armstrongs, who had flown in from Jakarta. Rather than engage in any sort of traditional holiday celebration, they departed into the Okavango Delta for a safari.  
  
Thanksgiving at the Read house was as hectic as Arthur had ever remembered it. Swarms of relatives descended upon the spot--Grandpa Dave, Grandma Thora, Cousin Lucy, Cousin Mo, Uncle Fred, etc., etc., etc. Nadine and her mother, who lacked the means to visit their nearest relatives, were invited as well.  
  
As the afternoon wound down on Thanksgiving day, Arthur decided to invite Alan, Francine, and Fern over for a little jazz performance (sans Sue Ellen, of course). To the delight of the extended Read family, they played one jazz standard after another to the accompaniment of Fern's silky-smooth voice.  
  
As Uncle Fred played with D.W. and Nadine, the Tibble twins appeared, their bellies grotesquely swollen. "Hi, D.W.," said Timmy. "Guess what we did."  
  
"Uh...you had a contest to see who could eat the most," D.W. conjectured.  
  
"That's right," said Tommy, groaning and clutching his stomach.  
  
"So, who won?" asked Nadine.  
  
"I did," said Timmy.  
  
"No, I did," Tommy shot back.  
  
The twins then started to fight, but soon found that they couldn't reach each other with their fists because of their planetoid-sized bellies. Within seconds they had landed on their backs, hardly able to support their own weight.  
  
"Ooooohhh," moaned Timmy. "I've fallen and I can't get up."  
  
Another hour passed. The Read relatives were having such a good time that they stubbornly refused to leave. The phone rang and Mrs. Read answered it, struggling to hear the voice over the din of music, conversation, and merriment. As she listened, her expression turned into one of fear and concern.  
  
Arthur and his friends were in the middle of an Irving Berlin song when Mrs. Read interrupted them. "Arthur!" she called. "Everybody, listen. I just got off the phone with Hank Armstrong. Sue Ellen's been hurt."  
  
The kids fell silent. Their faces looked pained, especially Alan's.  
  
"Oh, no!" cried Fern. "What happened?"  
  
"Their plane had to make an emergency landing," Mrs. Read explained. "Sue Ellen broke her left arm very badly. She's in the hospital."  
  
"The hospital." The words echoed in Alan's troubled mind.  
  
"Will she be all right?" asked Arthur.  
  
"I think so," Mrs. Read replied.  
  
"What part of Africa are they in, Mrs. Read?" asked Alan, his voice quivering.  
  
"Somewhere in Botswana," said Arthur's mother. "I don't know exactly. He said that she'll be moved to the capital soon so she can get better care."  
  
"Knowing the Armstrongs, they're probably way off the beaten path," Francine remarked.  
  
"Botswana has one of the highest AIDS incidences in Africa," said Alan quietly.  
  
"Yeah, but she's in a hospital," said Arthur. "Everything's sterilized in the hospital, right?"  
  
"How do you know so much about AIDS rates in Africa?" Francine asked Alan.  
  
The boy didn't answer, but simply stared into space.  
  
Returning home ten minutes later, Alan found that his parents were still cleaning the mess left behind by their humble dinner. To his relief, Jason was still present, assisting with the cleanup.  
  
"Jason," Alan called. "My room. Now."  
  
His curiosity piqued, Jason laid down his rag and followed Alan into the bedroom. Alan closed the door behind them.  
  
The two boys didn't bother to sit down. "Jason," said Alan seriously, "I've never told anybody what I saw when I went into the future with the time tricycle. I'm guessing that at some time in the future, I'll tell you."  
  
Jason nodded. "That's right."  
  
"Mr. Armstrong just called from Africa," Alan continued. "They had a plane accident. Sue Ellen's in the hospital. I get the feeling she's not in one of the nicer hospitals."  
  
"According to my timeline, Sue Ellen will die of AIDS two and a half years from now," Jason told him. "Whether that's a result of her hospital stay in Botswana, nobody really knows."  
  
"But what else could it be?" said Alan, his voice rising in pitch.  
  
"You and your friends will ask yourselves that question many times," Jason calmly informed him, "and you'll never find an answer. I think you should just leave it alone."  
  
"But Sue Ellen could die!" Alan snapped.  
  
Jason shrugged his shoulders. "Everybody dies, Alan."  
  
Alan sat down on the edge of the bed and groaned plaintively.  
  
"I could go back in time and stop her from going to Botswana," he suggested.  
  
Jason sat on the bed next to him. "Remember what we talked about," he warned Alan. "You don't know what the consequences would be. You can't even be sure if it would save her."  
  
Alan looked at Jason earnestly. "Is that what you came into the past for?" he asked. "To prevent me from trying to save Sue Ellen's life?"  
  
Jason turned his face away from Alan and didn't speak.  
  
(To be continued...) 


	22. Cruisin' the 'Wood

Three days later, Sue Ellen and Carla returned to the United States, where Sue Ellen was moved into a room in the Elwood Memorial Hospital. As she lay in a hospital bed with her head bandaged and a full upper and lower cast on her left arm, some of her classmates came to pay a visit--specifically, Arthur, Muffy, Francine, Alan, Fern, and Binky. Arthur entered first, holding a batch of Get Well Soon balloons in one hand.

"Oh, hi, Arthur," said Sue Ellen groggily, as she was under the influence of painkillers. "Hi, Francine. Hi, guys."

"Well, look who's got a cast now," Francine quipped. "Can I sign it?"

"Not now." Sue Ellen spoke as if she was struggling to stay awake. "They'll just cut it off when they operate."

"The cast, or your arm?" asked Fern. The kids laughed.

"This won't get in the way of your tae kwon do, will it?" Binky asked Sue Ellen.

"I can still clobber you with one arm, Binky," the girl replied.

Alan began to interrogate her about her experience. "Tell me about the first hospital you stayed at."

"It was a rural hospital," Sue Ellen answered. "It wasn't very clean."

"What about transfusions?" Alan asked.

"Yeah, I had to get a transfusion. The bone came out through the skin. I lost a lot of blood."

"Where did the blood come from?"

"I don't know."

"What about the staff? How professional were they?"

"Uh...I can't really answer that."

"How many AIDS patients were being treated there?"

"I don't know."

"What's the capital of Russia?"

"Moscow."

"Who was the seventh President of the United States?"

"Andrew Jackson."

"Who is John Galt?"

"Stop asking her questions, Alan," Muffy interrupted. "Can't you see she's in a lot of pain right now?"

"You're too worried about her getting AIDS," Fern said to Alan. "It's highly unlikely."

As if to prove a point, Arthur leaved over the edge of Sue Ellen's bed and kissed the girl lightly on the lips. The other kids watched with expressions of mild shock.

"There." Arthur straightened up again. "If she has AIDS, then I've got it, too."

Sue Ellen giggled weakly. "Silly boy."

About half an hour later, the kids exited the hospital and found that the weather had become somewhat colder. Muffy pulled her gloves from the pockets of her coat and put them on her hands. As they walked toward the parking lot, they expressed their feelings about their friend Sue Ellen.

"I liked what I saw back there, Arthur," said Francine. "I'd like to see you two get back together. In fact, I think you two should get married."

"Great," Arthur murmured. "I'd have to kiss that pair of fuzzy lips every day for the rest of my life."

Alan walked along with his hands in his pockets, downcast and speechless. "What's eating you, Alan?" Binky asked him.

"I'd rather not talk about it," Alan replied.

Moments later, as Francine and Muffy belted themselves in the back seat of Muffy's limo, Muffy grabbed her cell phone and turned it on. "You have...one...voice message," it chimed at her.

"Who's this one from?" Francine asked.

"Probably one of my adoring fans," said Muffy, holding the phone to her ear. "No, wait. It's Marina."

----

"This is amazing!" Muffy analyzed the highly detailed charcoal portrait with wonder. "It looks just like him. But you couldn't have drawn this."

"But I did," insisted Marina, who sat in an easy chair at her house. Muffy and Francine sat on the couch opposite her.

"That's impossible," said Francine, who was also impressed by the picture. "You didn't see the kidnapper, and you can't see to begin with."

"You may find this hard to believe," said Marina, "but I've developed a sixth sense somehow. I can sense things without seeing them."

"Oh, yeah?" Muffy held up three fingers. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Three," Marina replied. "And you're wearing white underpants with blue hearts on them."

Muffy suddenly blushed. Francine snickered.

"And Francine isn't wearing underpants at all," Marina added.

It was Francine's turn to blush and Muffy's to snicker.

"And Muffy's chauffeur is reading a book called 'Crime and Punishment'," Marina continued.

"I don't know how you're doing all this," said Muffy, "but I think we should go to the police with this sketch."

"And tell them what?" said Marina with concern. "That I pulled the image of the kidnapper's face from your mind?"

"Don't tell me you're telepathic, too," said Muffy incredulously.

"All right, I won't tell you. Sixty-eight, Francine."

"What number am I..." Francine started to say, but stopped in mid-sentence.

"And it doesn't stop there," said Marina. "Not only can I read minds, but I can make hypnotic suggestions."

Before Francine and Muffy knew what had happened, they were seated along with Marina in the back seat of Muffy's limo, with their belts fastened. Marina was clutching her cane, and neither Francine nor Muffy was holding Marina's sketch.

"What the..." cried the consternated Muffy. "What happened? I don't remember going back to the limo."

"Me, neither," said Francine. "What did you do, Marina?"

"I planted a suggestion in your minds that you should get in the limo," Marina answered. "Basically, I hypnotized you."

"This is really freaking me out," said Muffy, who started to unfasten her seat belt. "I'm getting out of here."

"No, you're not," said Marina.

"No, I'm not," said Muffy as she buckled her seat belt again. "Huh?"

"Bailey, I'd like you to drive toward the center of town," Marina ordered the chauffeur.

"Yes, Miss Muffy." Bailey replaced his book in the satchel and pulled the limo away from the curb.

"Turn around and go back, Bailey," Muffy commanded, but the chauffeur did not respond.

Marina gazed piercingly at Muffy. "Do you want to find Odette, or don't you?" she asked. "I believe she's being held somewhere in Elwood City. If we can get close enough to her, or the man who kidnapped her, then I can pick them up with my telepathy."

"But we'd have to drive around the whole city," Francine protested. "That could take hours."

"Just let me know if you need to make a pit stop," said Marina.

"All right, Marina," said Muffy, "we'll play your little game." She thought for a moment. "Did I say that of my own free will?"

A short while later, the limousine was driving along the main street through Elwood City.

"I've kept my powers a secret from my parents," said Marina. "Besides you, Prunella's the only one who knows about them, and she wants to turn me into a sideshow attraction."

As Marina spoke, Francine looked at her and noted with surprise that the blind girl's mouth was not moving.

The three girls drove around the city for half an hour, then stopped for a break at a fast-food restaurant.

As Francine and Marina chewed on their hamburgers, Muffy expressed her concerns about Marina's abilities. "Um...you're going to use your powers for good and not evil, right?"

Marina swallowed and spoke, moving her mouth. "By good, you mean more money in the Crosswire bank account."

"Well, yeah, why not?" said Muffy. "What's good for Crosswire Motors is good for America."

Marina took another bite and spoke telepathically. "Trickle-down economics. I thought they stopped teaching that in second grade. And I know it's impolite to talk with my mouth full, Muffy."

Shortly the girls were on the road again, and Francine and Muffy were becoming increasingly bored. "Are you picking up anything yet?" Francine asked Marina.

"Yeah, I'm picking up something," said Marina without moving her mouth. "Two impatient little girls sitting right next to me. Why don't you play a game or something?"

Another half-hour passed.

"I spy with my little eye something that starts with M," said Francine gleefully.

"Uh...Marina?" asked Muffy.

"Nope."

"Muffy?"

"Yup."

Muffy looked at Marina, who appeared to be absorbed in thought. "I hope we're not making too much noise and messing up your telepathy," she said.

"What?" said Marina.

About five minutes later, Marina suddenly gasped and pointed. "That hardware store," she said, moving her mouth. "Bailey, pull over."

"Yes, Miss Muffy." The chauffeur parked the limo next to the curb, and the three girls scrambled out. Tapping quickly with her cane, Marina led the girls in the direction of a nearby Mace Hardware store.

Marina pulled open the door, and the three girls stood in the doorway, Francine in the middle. About half a dozen patrons were milling around the store, including, in one corner, an aardvark man with a black beard who was examining the adjustable wrenches.

Muffy pointed. "That's him!" she cried loudly. "That's the kidnapper!"

Upon hearing Muffy's exclamation, the aardvark man turned and started to run toward the girls. Before they could move out of the way he plowed into them, sending them flying in all directions, and rushed down the sidewalk.

As Francine fell backwards, her head forcefully struck the edge of a brick planter. She collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Muffy and Marina pulled themselves to their feet, and Marina grabbed her cane. "He's getting away!" shouted Muffy, pointing at the fleeing man.

"Don't worry, Muffy," said Marina. "I read his mind. I know where Odette is."

Muffy then looked down at Francine...and nearly fainted.

Sprawled on the sidewalk in front of the planter, the girl showed no sign of life. Blood trickled from the side of her mouth.

(To be continued...)


	23. Good Night, Sweet Princess

"She's suffered extensive brain damage," said the doctor emotionlessly. "If she wakes up at all, she'll no longer be the girl you remember." 

Francine lay motionless in a hospital bed, her eyes tightly closed, with breathing tubes leading into her nose and mouth. Around her bed stood a mournful lot, including her parents, Catherine, Muffy, Marina, Alan, Beat, and Arthur.

"Have you done everything you can for her?" asked Mrs. Frensky, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.

"I'm afraid so," said the doctor, who lowered his eyes to avoid looking at the woman's face.

"Isn't there another clinic...or another surgeon..." Mr. Frensky asked haltingly.

"We're doctors, not miracle workers, Mr. Frensky," said the doctor calmly. "At this point, the only remaining question is how long you want her to remain in this state."

"Oh, Frankie!" Catherine began to sob uncontrollably, and her parents embraced her.

"She was too beautiful for this world," mumbled Beat quietly.

"So that's it?" Muffy protested. "You're just going to leave her like that? How much will it cost to make her better? Just give me a ballpark figure."

"It's not a matter of money," said the doctor sadly.

"So young," grumbled Alan. "It's not fair."

Beat, her eyes moist, leaned over and kissed Francine gently on her unresponsive cheek. "Good night, sweet princess."

"She was like a sister to me," said Arthur, his voice breaking. "I'll miss her."

Alan started to leave the hospital room, and motioned for Muffy to follow him. As soon as they were in the hallway, Muffy asked, "What is it?"

"I want you to tell me exactly when and where this happened," Alan demanded.

As Muffy told Alan the particulars of Francine's accident, Beat came out of the room and walked by them, weeping. Arthur followed after her, hoping to offer some comfort.

"Some time between eleven and twelve?" said Alan impatiently. "Can you be more specific than that?"

Before Muffy could respond, she heard Marina's voice in her mind, saying, "It was 11:14 am, Muffy. I looked at the wall clock in the hardware store."

"It was 11:14 in the morning," Muffy told Alan.

Further down the hallway, Arthur tapped the grieving Beat on the shoulder. She turned and threw her arms around the boy's neck.

"What kind of world is this?" she wailed bitterly. "How can evil men be allowed to do such things to innocent girls?"

Arthur didn't answer, but simply held Beat in his arms and felt grateful that she didn't have hair puffs.

After Alan thanked Muffy and departed down the hallway, Muffy saw Marina standing in front of her. "Got a minute?" came Marina's voice in her head.

Muffy started to open her mouth. "Don't say it," Marina's voice continued. "Just think it."

"Sure," Muffy thought. "What do you want?"

"I won't force you to help me," thought Marina, "but I could really use your help."

Muffy's expression became stern. "If you want to go after Odette," she mentalized, "you're on your own. If you couldn't save Francine with your powers, then I'm not putting myself in danger for you."

"Would you put yourself in danger for Odette?" said Marina's voice in her mind.

"Why should I?" thought Muffy. "She doesn't even like me."

"Think what it would mean to your families." Marina transmitted an image into Muffy's brain of a newspaper headline, MUFFY CROSSWIRE RESCUES LAWYER'S DAUGHTER.

"But you're the one with the powers," Muffy replied mentally. "You'd be doing all the work. Why should I take all the credit?"

"I could go into the compound by myself and get her out," thought Marina, "but I want to keep my powers a secret. Since you're the only witness to the kidnapping, you're the perfect cover for me."

"What compound?" thought Muffy. "And why do you want to keep your powers a secret?"

"If people find out about my powers," thought Marina, "they'll treat me like a mutant freak."

"Not if you use them for good," Muffy insisted mentally.

"Forget it, Muffy. They only tolerate Superman because they can't destroy him."

"Okay, whatever," thought Muffy. "So what's this compound you're talking... er, thinking about?"

Marina paused before commencing her next thought. "What do you know about the Church of the Higher Power?"

"I'm happy with my own church, thank you," Muffy thought back.

----

Alan marched through the front door into his house, a stern, determined look on his face. Jason was sitting on a chair in the living room, but Alan seemed not to notice him.

"There you are, Alan," Jason said to him. "I came over as soon as I heard what happened to Francine."

Rather than respond, Alan walked single-mindedly through the living room and in the direction of the garage. He didn't bother to remove his jacket, scarf, mittens, or wool hat. _What a grouch_, Jason thought.

The door to the garage slammed shut as Jason continued to stare at the wall.

Then he leaped to his feet. "Oh, no!"

Hurrying to the garage, he found to his horror that the folding door was closed, but Alan was nowhere to be seen.

Muttering angrily to himself, he pulled aside a plywood box in the corner of the garage, and looked behind it.

It was as he feared. The time tricycle was gone.

"Fool!" exclaimed Jason.

(I know you're tired of cliffhangers, Hufflepuffer, but I DON'T CARE! MUWAHAHAHAHAHAHA! To be continued...)


	24. Then and Back Again

Muffy pointed into the hardware store. "That's him!" she cried loudly. "That's the kidnapper!"  
  
Upon hearing Muffy's exclamation, the aardvark man turned and started to run toward the girls. Before they could move out of the way he plowed into them, sending them flying in all directions, and rushed down the sidewalk.  
  
As Francine fell backwards, her head forcefully struck...the stomach of a boy who stood between her and the brick planter. The boy was warmly dressed, with a wool hat and a scarf wrapped around his face.  
  
Francine, Muffy, and Marina pulled themselves to their feet. Francine turned to face the boy with whom she had collided. "Thank you, strange boy."  
  
"You're welcome," said the boy, his voice muffled by the scarf.  
  
"He's getting away!" cried Muffy, pointing at the fleeing man.  
  
As the boy walked away, he unwrapped his scarf to reveal the smiling face of Alan Powers.  
  
----  
  
There was a brief flash of light, and Alan materialized in the garage, seated in the time tricycle. Coming to a stop, he rose to his feet and pulled the tricycle to the corner where he was accustomed to hiding it.  
  
Pulling the plywood box aside, he was astounded to see...another time tricycle. It was an exact duplicate of the one he had just traveled on.  
  
"Huh?" he said to himself. "How is this..."  
  
Then a terrifying prospect occurred to him.  
  
He quickly pushed his own time tricycle into the same corner with its duplicate, and moved the plywood box back into place to hide them. Then he hurried through the garage door, into the house.  
  
When he reached the living room, he saw three people seated on the couch, watching TV. One was his father. One was his mother. The other...  
  
Alan knew he had to cover his face, and quickly. Grabbing his scarf, he wound it around his entire head so that even his eyes were obscured.  
  
He stood still and breathless. "Who is that, Alan?" he heard his mother ask.  
  
"It's Jason," said a voice that sounded exactly like Alan's. "He's come to work on a science project with me."  
  
"Why is he hiding his face?" came his father's voice.  
  
"He, uh, has a pimple on his nose," said the Alan-like voice. "He's very self-conscious."  
  
A few seconds later, Alan felt a hand grasp him firmly by the wrist. He was dragged through the living room and into his bedroom. He heard the sound of the bedroom door closing.  
  
"You can take the scarf off now," said the voice that was identical to his own.  
  
Slowly and fearfully, Alan pulled down the scarf. What he saw shocked but did not surprise him. Before him stood a boy who had his face, his height, his width. Everything was the same, except that the boy was dressed in a shirt and jeans instead of winter clothing. And he looked very, very upset.  
  
"Nice going," said the other Alan. "Now there are two of me...and Francine is dead!"  
  
(To be continued...) 


	25. Alan Squared

The news struck Alan (heretofore known as Alan 1) through the heart. Shaken and astonished, he slowly seated himself on the edge of the bed. "Francine dead...it's not possible..."  
  
His duplicate (heretofore known as Alan 2) waved his arms with exasperation. "What did you do?" he asked. "What did you change?"  
  
Alan 1, his mind overwhelmed with confusion and shock, didn't answer.  
  
"Did you try to stop Sue Ellen from going to Africa?" asked Alan 2. "If so, then you failed. She's still in the hospital with a broken arm."  
  
"No," said Alan 1 quietly. "Francine...how did she die? When did she die?"  
  
"It happened yesterday, in the cafeteria," Alan 2 informed him. "She had just finished her lunch, then she keeled over. The doctors who performed the autopsy couldn't find a cause of death. No organ failure, no trace of poison. She just...dropped dead."  
  
"Then the accident at the hardware store never happened," said Alan 1. "At least...not in your timeline."  
  
"What accident?" asked Alan 2 curiously. "What hardware store?"  
  
"She was in front of a hardware store," Alan 1 explained, "and a man knocked her over. She hit her head and ended up in a coma. Muffy said it was the same man who kidnapped Odette Cooper."  
  
"Hmm." Alan 2 sat down on the edge of the bed next to his duplicate. "I remember Muffy saying something about seeing the kidnapper again. But Francine was never in a coma."  
  
"That's because I went back and prevented her from hitting her head," said Alan 1.  
  
"Mm-hmm." Alan 2 thought for a second. "That would explain why there's two of me now. You went back in time and prevented the accident, which caused me to not go back in time because the accident didn't happen in my timeline. So here I am, and here you are."  
  
"I should have seen this coming," Alan 1 mourned. "If only I'd listened to Jason."  
  
"It's all right," said Alan 2 comfortingly. "I would have done the same thing. In fact, I'd go back and save Francine right now, except I have no idea what killed her."  
  
"Where is Jason, anyway?" asked Alan 1. "Maybe he can help us set things right."  
  
"The last time I saw him was yesterday at school," said Alan 2. "He's not at the hotel anymore. I guess he's gone back to his own time."  
  
"It doesn't make sense," said Alan 1 sadly. "Francine was alive when I went to the future."  
  
Alan 2 shook his head. "I don't understand it either."  
  
The two Alans sat in silence for several seconds.  
  
"Maybe we shouldn't try to save Francine," Alan 1 proposed. "I tried to once, and now there are two of us, and Francine died anyway. Who knows what'll happen if we try to save her again?"  
  
"There could be three of us," Alan 2 imagined. "And somebody else might drop dead."  
  
"You don't think Francine died because I went back in time, do you?" asked Alan 1.  
  
"I don't know what to think. Time travel is a weird business."  
  
The boys sat silently and thought for a few more seconds.  
  
"I agree with you," said Alan 2 somberly. "The time-space continuum has been damaged enough already. We'll just have to come to grips with the fact that Francine is dead."  
  
"She was so young," Alan 1 lamented.  
  
"There's just one loose end to tie up," said Alan 2.  
  
Alan 1 turned to face him. "What's that?"  
  
"We can't have two Alans running around. One of us will have to leave. Forever."  
  
The Alans looked at each other anxiously.  
  
"I guess it should be me," said Alan 1. "It's my fault this happened. But where will I go?"  
  
"You could go to the future," Alan 2 suggested. "I'll adopt you. You'll be Jason's brother."  
  
"That might work. But...that means you'll have to marry D.W."  
  
Alan 2 swallowed nervously. "Uh...let's just flip a coin."  
  
(Will Alan 1 and Alan 2 try to save Francine's life? Or should they leave the time-space continuum well enough alone? What do YOU think?) 


	26. Elegy

"Quinn, say grace," said Mrs. Cooper as her family, sans Odette, sat around the dinner table for a meal of roast duck.  
  
"For what we are about to receive, dear Lord," Quinn began, "we give thanks. Please watch over Odette and bring her home safely, and pour out thy fury and wrath upon the people responsible for her kidnapping. And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And help us to be patient and..."  
  
Quinn's supplication was interrupted when the doorbell rang. "Oh, who is it now?" she muttered angrily. "Amen."  
  
Rising from the table, she went to answer the door, only to find Muffy Crosswire standing on the doorstep, her pack strapped to her shoulders.  
  
"This is not what I prayed for," said Quinn with an annoyed tone.  
  
"May I come in?" asked Muffy pleasantly.  
  
Quinn turned her head toward the dining room. "Can Muffy come in?" she called.  
  
"Yes," said Mr. Cooper, his mouth full of white meat.  
  
"No," said Quinn, closing the door in Muffy's face.  
  
Undaunted, Muffy rang the doorbell again. Quinn opened the door. "Weren't you just here?" she asked petulantly.  
  
"Come in, Muffy," called Mrs. Cooper from the dining room.  
  
Muffy walked into the house and made her way to the dinner table, Quinn scowling at her all the way. "Hey, Muffy," said Van when she arrived.  
  
"Van told us all about the loss of your friend," Mr. Cooper said to Muffy. "We're terribly sorry."  
  
"We all are," said Muffy, who started to sniffle. "I cared more about Francine than anybody else in the world. Except for my parents. And my baby brother Tyson. And Nick Carter."  
  
"Have a seat," Mr. Cooper offered. "A little roast duck will cheer you up."  
  
"Dad, are you sure there's room at the table for Muffy and all her servants?" asked Quinn as she returned to her seat.  
  
Muffy pulled out a chair, removed her backpack, and sat down. "I didn't come here to eat, Mr. Cooper. I know who took Odette."  
  
Mr. Cooper spit out his mouthful of food.  
  
"It was a man named Gus Coleman," Muffy continued. "He's a member of the Church of the Higher Power."  
  
"Gus...Gus..." Mr. Cooper stammered. "Gus Coleman? Are you sure?"  
  
"How do you know that?" Van asked Muffy.  
  
"I, er, described the kidnapper to a friend of mine, who knew somebody who matched the description. She gave me a drawing she made of him." Reaching into her pack, Muffy pulled from her notebook the drawing that Marina had made of the kidnapper's face.  
  
Mr. Cooper scrutinized the drawing. "Yes, that's Gus, all right. Except his hair and beard weren't that long, and he didn't have the scar."  
  
"You know him?" asked Muffy, surprised.  
  
"I knew him," said the lawyer. "He was a contractor. I hired him to fix our roof after last year's blizzard. He seemed like a decent, God-fearing man, though a little eccentric. You say he's gone and joined that cult now?"  
  
"Dude, that's the religion that lets you have, like, ten wives," Logan remarked. "I wanna join."  
  
"They're nothing but fanatics," Quinn commented.  
  
"Yeah, you'd be right at home, Logan," Van joked.  
  
"If Odette's been taken to that compound of theirs, I can only suppose the worst," said Mrs. Cooper fearfully.  
  
"And what's that?" asked Muffy.  
  
"She's been married off."  
  
Muffy gasped. "She's only twelve!"  
  
"Yes, twelve is a bit young," Mrs. Cooper went on. "But I've heard of them marrying girls as young as fourteen."  
  
"Omigosh!" cried Muffy with horror. "We've got to get her out of there!"  
  
"We'll let the police handle that." Mr. Cooper rose from the dinner table and went to the phone to call the investigators.  
  
----  
  
Later that night, Francine's friends gathered at the Crosswire mansion for a memorial service in honor of the fallen girl. In addition to Muffy, the sorrowful crowd included Arthur, Beat, Prunella, Marina, George, Jenna, Fern, and Binky.  
  
In one corner of the large living room, Fern and George were discussing the tragic event of the previous day.  
  
"I've combed through the cafeteria again and again," said Fern, "and I still haven't found any clues. But I'm not giving up."  
  
"You're wasting your time," George told her. "I'm sure it was the aliens. Francine must have gotten a little too close to the truth."  
  
Muffy and Marina sat on the couch, talking about the Odette Cooper case without moving their mouths.  
  
"That was a good idea, Muffy," Marina told her mentally. "Now I don't have to take matters into my own hands."  
  
"Well, it only made sense," Muffy replied. "So many kidnappers turn out to be friends of the family."  
  
In another part of the room, Arthur and Prunella considered other possibilities.  
  
"Have you tried using your fortune-telling abilities to find out how Francine died?" Arthur asked.  
  
"No way, Jose," Prunella responded. "I'm not going near another crystal ball for as long as I live."  
  
Meanwhile, Beat and Binky were engaged in a lively debate.  
  
"I knew that crumby cafeteria food would kill somebody sooner or later," said Binky.  
  
"It had nothing to do with the food," Beat insisted. "The forensic evidence determined..."  
  
"Mark my words," Binky went on, "if they don't shut that place down permanently, kids are gonna start dropping like flies."  
  
Beat shook her head. "You're a silly goose, Binky."  
  
"Stop calling me that," Binky complained.  
  
"Okay," said Beat. "You're a silly git."  
  
As the kids conversed and commiserated, the doorbell rang and Muffy went to answer it. Into the mansion walked Alan and another boy--one who wore a white plastic mask to obscure the lower part of his face.  
  
"Hi, Alan," said Muffy. Gesturing toward the other boy, she asked, "Who's your masked friend?"  
  
"It's Jason," Alan answered. "Where he comes from, it's traditional to wear a mask when mourning for a loved one who has passed on."  
  
"He looks a little taller than when I saw him yesterday," Muffy remarked.  
  
"It's also traditional to wear platform shoes when mourning," said the masked boy.  
  
"Hmm," Muffy mused. "Walla Walla must be a weird place."  
  
A short while later, the kids sat in a circle on the floor of the palacial living room. Muffy stood and called the memorial service to order. Her manservant, Claude, stood nearby, holding a box of Kleenexes and a wastebasket.  
  
"Dearly beloved," she said somberly, "we are gathered here to share our fond memories of our dear departed friend and comrade, Francine Frensky."  
  
Beat started to bawl like a child. Muffy snapped her fingers, and Claude hurried to Beat's side. He pulled out a Kleenex and handed it to the girl, who blew her nose with it and then tossed it into the wastebasket.  
  
"Don't be afraid to cry," Muffy told the kids. "It only shows how much you loved Francine. So cry all you want. Even you boys."  
  
Arthur raised his head. "I don't know how the rest of you feel, but I sorta think that Francine would rather see us laugh than cry."  
  
All the other kids in the circle immediately began to weep loudly. Claude had his hands full giving out Kleenexes to all the crying children.  
  
"She had such a keen sense of humor!" wailed Jenna as tears gushed from her eyes.  
  
Muffy waited for a few seconds while the weeping subsided. "Yes, this is a difficult and painful time for us all," she finally spoke. "Now, I want each of you to stand and share your feelings about Francine with the group. We'll go in a circle, starting with Fern, and then I'll be last."  
  
Fern stood and pulled a slightly crumpled sheet of paper from her pocket. "This is a little poem I wrote," she announced.  
  
"Two arms, two legs, a heart of gold, You died before you could grow old. Two eyes, two ears, a soul so pure, I'll miss your friendship, to be sure."  
  
Fern sat down again. "That was beautiful," Prunella commended her.  
  
"Thank you," said Fern. "I originally wrote it to be read at my own funeral."  
  
One by one, the other kids stood and shared their memories of the good times they had enjoyed with Francine.  
  
Finally, as the memorial service came to a close, Muffy handed every one of her friends a free box of Kleenexes. She then bid them a good night as they filed out the door.  
  
Clad in her nightgown, Muffy climbed into her water bed and picked up a remote control from the end table. Pointing it at the CD player, she started to play once again the final movement from Mahler's Ninth Symphony. She then lay down and sobbed quietly.  
  
The music finally meant something to her.  
  
(To be continued...) 


	27. Muffy Gets Her Fifteen

Francine's funeral took place the next day. The day after, the kids' anguish over Francine's passing had begun to dim. With the absence of Francine, Muffy, Sue Ellen, and Buster, Mr. Wald's class seemed much smaller and quieter, despite the now-regular attendance of the masked boy who claimed to be Alan's cousin Jason. 

As Alan and the masked boy entered the classroom, the other kids eyed them with curiosity. "Hey, Jason," Binky called out, "how long do you have to wear that dorky mask?"

The masked boy stopped and rubbed the bottom of his mask, thinking.

"I'm not wearing it for grieving purposes anymore," he explained. "You see, I cried and blew my nose so much that the skin on my face became chapped. It's not a pretty sight."

A moment later, the door opened automatically to allow Van to enter in his wheelchair. He waved at the other kids and the teacher, smiling joyfully.

"Guess what, everybody!" he exulted. "Odette's been rescued!"

Astonished at the news, the kids began to applaud and cheer.

"Where was she?" asked Alan.

"Who took her?" Jenna wanted to know.

"The police raided the Higher Power compound this morning," Van explained. "Odette has some bruises, but she's all right."

"Finally, some good news!" Arthur exclaimed.

"Good news indeed," said Mr. Wald, rising from his desk chair. "You can all celebrate during recess. Now let's get started with our science lesson."

----

After school, the kids went to their homes and tuned in eagerly to the news reports of Odette's rescue. At the Powers residence, Alan 1 (wearing a mask) and Alan 2 (not wearing a mask) watched the broadcast along with their parents.

"Taken into custody was one Gus Coleman, a former contractor," said the newscaster. A photo of the scarred, black-bearded aardvark man appeared on the screen.

After that Muffy appeared in the newsroom as a woman interviewed her. "I'm here with Muffy Crosswire, daughter of used-car magnate Ed Crosswire, who witnessed the kidnapping and assisted the police in identifying the suspect."

"Money_and_ fame," Alan 2 muttered.

"I can remember faces, but I can't draw them," said Muffy into the microphone. "So I had to go to everybody I knew and describe the kidnapper, until I found somebody who actually..."

Muffy suddenly stopped talking and scowled. "Go on," said the newswoman.

"Forget everything I said," Muffy continued. "It's all a lie. I couldn't have done anything without the help of my blind friend Marina Messersmith. It was her telepathic abilities that identified the kidnapper. I had nothing to do with it."

At the Messersmith home, Marina's jaw dropped in horror as she listened to the newscast.

Her parents looked at her quizzically. "What does she mean, telepathic abilities?" asked her mother.

Marina gritted her teeth in anger. "Of all the times that...that...little snot could have picked to tell the truth!"

The televised interview with Muffy went on. "I understand that the rescued girl's father is involved in a lawsuit against your father," said the newswoman.

"Not anymore," Muffy replied. "Mr. Simon is replacing him. Conflict of interest and all that. Which is great, because now I can hang out with my friend Van Cooper as much as I want." She waved at the camera and smiled bashfully. "Hi, Van. How ya doin'?"

As the broadcast wound to a close, the two Alans discussed what they had just heard.

"Telepathic? Marina?" said Alan 1. "What's Muffy been inhaling?"

"Too much exhaust from Crosswire cars, I guess," Alan 2 theorized.

A second or two later the phone rang, and Mr. Powers rose to answer it. "It's for you, Alan," he called.

Alan 2 picked up the phone and heard Fern's voice.

"I've been reading a book on forensic science," she told him. "Most of it is way over my head. Since you're the science whiz, I thought I would ask you this question."

"Go ahead," said Alan 2.

"I'm trying to determine if there's any kind of poison that wouldn't be detected in an autopsy."

"I don't think so," Alan 2 replied. "If there is such a poison, it hasn't been invented yet."

"Thanks, Alan," said Fern.

Alan 2 replaced the receiver as Mrs. Powers approached him and Alan 1 with steaming TV dinners in her hands. "Dinnertime, boys," she said sweetly.

"Oh, good," said Alan 1. "Mind if we eat in the bedroom again?"

"Fine with me," Mrs. Powers replied. "Just don't get it all over the sheets."

The two Alans carried their dinners into the bedroom and closed the door behind them. They pulled up two chairs and sat down to eat. Alan 1 removed his mask.

"I wonder if they still have TV dinners thirty years from now," he said, taking a bite of mashed potatoes.

"You'll find out soon enough, won't you?" Alan 2 responded.

"I'm going to miss all of you," said Alan 1 with a hint of sadness and a mouth full of potatoes. "Well, except for you."

Alan 2 chuckled.

Roughly two hours later, the two Alans stood in the garage, with one of the two time tricycles sitting between them. Alan 1 removed his mask and dropped it on the floor in front of his feet.

"I guess this is goodbye," said Alan 2. "It was kinda cool to have a clone of myself for a few days."

"As soon as I get to the future and find you," said Alan 1, "I'm gonna take this baby apart and find out how it works. The technology may be useful for purposes other than time travel."

"I'll do the same to the other one," said Alan 2. "Our days of messing with the time-space continuum are over."

Alan 1 crouched down and sat on top of the time tricycle. "Goodbye, Alan," he said, waving.

"Goodbye, Alan," said Alan 2, waving back.

Alan 1 started to pedal, and a second later he was gone.

(Hmm...I could end it here, leaving Francine dead...)


	28. Course Reversal

The time tricycle slowly rose into the sky above Elwood City. Alan gazed down at his house, at the Sugar Bowl, at the neighborhood, and then at the city that he would never see again.  
  
He had set the tricycle speed to its lowest setting; at this rate, it would take him about an hour to travel thirty years into the future. Maybe, just maybe, it would be enough time for him to think of another solution to the tragic dilemma he faced.  
  
He reflected on the path he had chosen. Would he enjoy being his own son? Would Jason make a good brother? Would all the other kids at school be smarter than him? Would he be able to cope in the world of the future?  
  
He had no choice. Far below him, a boy who was his exact duplicate in appearance and personality had assumed his role as Alan Powers. It was his own fault that the other Alan existed.  
  
The time tricycle stopped rising and floated motionlessly. Alan watched as the sun and the moon chased each other through the sky.  
  
He thought about the things Jason had told him about the future, and the things he hadn't told him. He wondered about Jason's mission--why did he travel to the past? Was it to prevent a reality in which there was one Alan and Francine was in a coma, from transforming into a reality in which there were two Alans and Francine was dead? There had to be more to it. Why had Jason returned to his own time after Francine's death? Because he had failed in his mission?  
  
Alan thought about the moment he had discovered that he had a duplicate, and that Francine had died. He thought about the memorial service at Muffy's house, the failure of the doctors to determine a cause of death, the conversation with Fern over the phone...  
  
...and then it hit him.  
  
"No!" he exclaimed. "It can't be! It's unthinkable!"  
  
But what if it was true? It would explain everything...Jason's mission... Francine's death...  
  
He had to pursue it. Manipulating the controls on the time panel, Alan reversed course to go backwards in time...to the day that Francine died.  
  
(If you've been paying close attention, there are enough clues in this story for you to figure out what happens next. If not, the revelation of the next chapter will SHOCK your socks off...) 


	29. The Future Revealed

Alan woke up refreshed on the morning of the day that Francine would die. He punched the button to turn off the alarm clock, opened his eyes... 

...and saw himself sitting on a tricycle in front of the bed.

"Wh-wh-what's going on?" he stammered.

"Go back to sleep, Alan," said his duplicate. "I'll handle things from here."

Alan rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing double.

"You've come back in time," he said anxiously. "Why?"

The second Alan pushed on the tricycle's handlebars and rose to his feet. "I've got a suspicion that my son has been very, very bad," he replied.

----

The kids at Lakewood Elementary were lined up in the cafeteria, each in turn choosing between the two lunch entrees of the day--beef stroganoff and what passed for jambalaya. Francine and Alan stood in line together; when they reached Mrs. McGrady's position, Francine requested the stroganoff, while Alan asked for the jambalaya.

"Now remember, Francine," said Alan quietly, "don't take a bite of anything until I tell you to."

Francine's tone of voice was suspicious. "Hold on, Alan. Are you sure this prank isn't on me instead of Jason?"

"Trust me," Alan responded.

As the two made their way toward a table, Jason came up to them, clutching a textbook. "Hey, Alan," he asked, sounding a little nervous for no apparent reason, "what did you get for question 2 on the history test?"

"The Monroe Doctrine," Alan replied.

Jason was holding his hands above Francine's lunch tray, and Alan watched them closely. For a moment he thought he saw a slight spray of droplets from Jason's right hand onto Francine's plate. "Bingo!" said Alan silently.

"Come sit with us," Alan offered, and Jason followed the two. They sat together at a table, with Jason on Alan's left hand and Francine on his right. Jason set down his book, which had the words AMERICAN HISTORY engraved on the cover.

Francine started to fiddle idly with her silverware. "Hey, Francine," Alan said to her, "that stroganoff looks really good. I'll give you some of my jambalaya if you share it with me."

"Sure," said Francine with a knowing grin.

Jason's mouth suddenly fell open. He watched fearfully as Alan used his fork to load some of his jambalaya onto Francine's plate, while Francine pushed some stroganoff onto Alan's.

Then Alan scooped up a forkload of stroganoff and lifted it to his mouth.

Now aghast with horror, Jason grabbed the fork from Alan's hand and threw it onto the floor, scattering scraps of stroganoff for several feet.

Alan stared at him with mock surprise. "What did you do that for?"

Francine handed her fork to Alan. "Here, I haven't used this yet. I'll go get another fork."

Before Francine could stand, Jason leaped to his feet, grabbed both Alan's and Francine's lunch plates, and hurled them against the wall, smashing them to pieces.

"What...what..." Francine stammered in anger. "My lunch!" She and Alan rose from the table and glared at the terrified boy.

Jason slowly and nervously backed away from them...only to be stopped in his path by the indignant Principal Haney.

"I will not tolerate food fights in this school," the principal said to him. "Come to my office...now."

"Uh, Mr. Haney, sir," said Alan, "if it's all the same to you, I'd like to have a word with him first."

Mr. Haney looked at Alan curiously. "All right, but send him my way when you're done with him."

As the principal walked away, Jason started to whimper as if he expected Alan and Francine to commence pulverizing him at any moment.

"Outside," said Alan, motioning with his thumb toward the school exit.

As the confused and hungry Francine watched, Jason reluctantly followed Alan through the door and out of the building.

Alan glanced around to make sure nobody could hear their conversation. Then he looked at Jason accusingly. "Why did you do that? What's wrong with you?"

Jason swallowed. His face turned a whiter shade of pale.

"Why didn't you want us to eat?" Alan asked him. "Did you think it was poisoned or something?"

Jason still didn't answer.

"Wait...a...minute." Alan pointed a finger directly at Jason's pallid face. "That vial of fluid you carry around with you. It's not medicine, is it? It's some kind of poison. You were trying to poison someone, weren't you? And you wouldn't poison your own father, so it must have been Francine."

Jason covered his face with his hands and burst into tears. "Yes!" he confessed.

"WHY?" Alan roared.

The boy from the future sobbed and stammered. "I...I know it's...wrong to kill...but I have to..."

Alan folded his arms impatiently.

Jason wiped his eyes and struggled to compose himself. "You're right, Alan," he said with sudden firmness. "The whole reason I came back in time was to keep you from saving Francine. But you went ahead and changed the past despite my warnings, so now I have to eliminate The Wraith another way."

"The who?" asked Alan curiously.

"Let me explain," Jason continued. "In the future, you will become a great weapons scientist. You'll invent the most powerful and deadly weapon in the history of the world...the Gigadeath Bomb."

"I don't believe you," said Alan, folding his arms. "I would never invent anything like that. Besides, when I went into the future, I found out that I'll study art history at Stanford."

"That's just a cover," Jason explained. "You'll come up with the idea for the bomb at the age of sixteen."

"Just how powerful is this bomb?" Alan inquired.

"The bomb kills by irradiating the atmosphere and making it toxic," Jason answered. "The effect can spread for hundreds, maybe thousands of miles. A single bomb could kill everybody in the United States."

"Supposing all this is true," said Alan, "what does it have to do with Francine?"

"I was getting to that. Francine will become a master spy called The Wraith, because she can get into or out of anywhere. The government will send her on a mission to infiltrate a terrorist group, but she'll betray her country and deliver the Gigadeath technology to the terrorists."

"No!" cried Alan, outraged. "Francine would never do that!"

"But she will," Jason insisted. "That's why I have to dispose of her. If she lives, millions, maybe billions of people will die."

"I don't believe it!" Alan shouted. "You're lying! I won't let you kill Francine!"

"There's no other way," said Jason sadly, looking at his feet.

As Alan gazed at the dejected boy, his mind went into overdrive. _What if he's telling the truth?_ he thought. _But still, Francine shouldn't die for something she hasn't done yet. There must be another way._

And then he thought of one.

"Take me instead," he suggested.

"What?" Jason raised his head. The light returned to his eyes.

"Take me instead of Francine. With me out of the picture, the bomb won't be invented."

"But you're my father," said Jason. "Without you, I won't have a family."

"Without Francine, I won't have a friend," Alan replied. "It's your choice, Jason. Either take me with you to the future, or go home empty-handed. Because if you want to kill Francine, then you'll have to kill me, too."

Jason pondered for a few seconds. "Would you do that?" he asked unbelievingly. "Would you go to the future with me and never return?"

"If it means saving billions of lives, yes."

Jason's face fell. He appeared as if he was watching everyone he loved vanish into thin air.

"Okay," he finally said.

(Next: The final chapter!)


	30. The Day Before Christmas

It was the day before Christmas, 2033. As Jason, toting his brown pack on his back, and Alan floated down from the sky on the time tricycle, Alan breathed in the cold, crisp air. "Well, one thing hasn't changed in the past thirty years," he remarked. "Elwood City's air quality." 

"There's my house," said Jason, pointing downward. "I wonder who lives there now."

"We'll soon find out," said Alan.

The faded, chipped tricycle descended slowly, passing transparently through the roof of the house and landing on the floor of the garage.

A man watched as the tricycle and the two boys appeared out of nowhere and came to a stop.

Jason gasped with surprise when he saw the man's face. Alan himself recognized something oddly familiar about his appearance.

"Dad!" cried Jason. "But...you're not supposed to be here!"

"I'm happy to see you too," quipped Jason's father. "Hi, Alan."

"Hi, Alan," replied Alan, waving.

Jason's father quickly stepped forward and opened the small plastic gate leading into the time tricycle's power chamber. Pulling out the lump of radioactive Play-Doh that energized the device, he dropped it on the floor and stepped on it, grinding it until it was flat.

"No!" exclaimed Jason in horror. "Now it won't work!"

"Your days of messing with the time-space continuum are over, Jason," his father informed him.

Jason leaped from the time tricycle and glared angrily at Alan. "You tricked me! You went back in time to stop me from killing The Wraith! There were two of you all along!"

"Brilliant deduction, Jason," said Alan proudly. "That's my boy."

"You fool!" Jason ranted. "You've killed us all!"

"He's killed nobody," said Jason's father. "I was going to tell you just before you went back in time...the bomb is a dud."

Jason couldn't believe his ears. "A...a dud?"

"The Wraith's betrayal was all part of our plan," his father revealed. "The technology she delivered to the terrorists wasn't for the Gigadeath bomb...it was for the Mintybreath bomb."

"The what?" said Alan, confused.

"It's a bomb that makes the air smell minty fresh for thousands of miles. It's based on the same technology, so the terrorists couldn't tell the difference. Now that they've detonated it, we know right where their secret base is located."

"You mean...nobody's gonna die?" asked the deflated Jason.

"Only people who have a fatal allergic reaction to minty fresh air," his father replied.

Jason looked at Alan, then at his father.

"I almost did a terrible thing," he confessed sadly.

"I should have told you sooner," said his father, "but I had no idea you would go and do something so...independent."

Jason pointed at Alan. "Dad, this is my friend, Alan."

"We've met before," said Jason's father.

At that moment Jason's mother, the grown-up D.W., stepped into the garage and stood by her husband's side. "Francine just called," she announced. "She made it out of the terrorist base safe and sound."

"Was there ever any doubt, Winnie?" said Jason's father. Then he kissed her passionately.

Alan grimaced. "Oh, man..."

Mr. Powers pulled his lips away from his wife's face and looked at Alan with a bemused expression. "You'll soon wish I had gone in your place, Alan. Now, let me show you around your new home."

Alan followed Jason and his parents into the kitchen. Many of the appliances were similar in form to their counterparts from thirty years ago, but there were several strangely-shaped devices whose function he couldn't even guess at.

As he gaped at his nearly incomprehensible surroundings, he felt a soft object brush against his leg. Looking down, he saw something that very much resembled a long-haired white cat, but moved in a slightly more mechanical way than a normal feline.

"That's Sue Ellen, our robocat," Jason told him.

Alan looked at him for several moments as if wanting to ask a question, but dreading the answer.

Then he reached down and started to pet the mechanical cat. "She's very pretty," he remarked.

"Thank you," said the cat in a little girl's voice.

"Come on, Alan," said Jason. "You'll flip when you see our holographic TV."

Alan followed Jason to the living room while the agile robocat bounded along next to his feet, purring affectionately.

"Hey, Alan," said Jason as he looked under the cushions of the couch for the remote control, "did you know when you came to the future with me that the bomb was a dud?"

"No," Alan replied.

"Then you knew that millions of people might die because of your actions."

Alan shrugged. "I guess so. But after I saw what could go wrong if I tried to save one life..."

----

"When I wake up in the morning," Marina lamented, "there'll be fifty reporters at our doorstep. I'll never get any peace again."

"Let me handle it," said her mother as she tucked in her blind daughter.

"That stupid Muffy," Marina grumbled. "I should read her mind, find out all her secrets, and sell them to the National Exploiter."

Mrs. Messersmith kissed her on the cheek. "Good night, dear."

Marina turned on her side while her mother shut off the light. _It may be the last good night I ever have_, she thought drearily.

An hour later, Marina was still tossing restlessly, unable to forget about the newscast she had watched earlier.

Suddenly she heard what seemed like a man's voice. "Marina..."

Her eyelids shot open. Scanning the room with her enhanced senses, she found nobody else present.

The voice returned, louder, yet soothing. "You're not alone, Marina."

"Who's there?" called the frightened girl.

"There are others like you," came the voice again.

Marina lay as still as she could, hoping that the voice would reveal something about its source and identity. But it did not speak again.

"I'm dreaming," she mumbled. "There's no one else like me."

THE END...?


End file.
